Angel
by notan8footpython
Summary: Destiel College AU Depressed!Cas Protective!Dean When Dean Winchester is roomed with Castiel Novak, the two form a profound bond. However, Cas has a deep, dark sadness within him that only Dean can cure. The two go through ups and downs and dark times, but remain together through it all. TRIGGER WARNING: self harm, eating disorder, depression, etc* M to be safe
1. Chapter 1 - Cas

_Dean_

Dean stares up at the intimidating front of the Lawrence Community College. For a small town university, damn this thing was huge.

It's his first day; he didn't ever expect to go to college, but here he is. He always thought Sammy would be the one to go off and get an education while he was stuck doing the family business with his father.

 _"Bye, Nerd," Dean laughed as he ducked out of the Impala. Damn, would he miss that car._

 _"Says the college jerk," Sam retorted._

 _"Don't douche my up my Baby, bitch," Dean flashed his brother a grin before slamming the door shut and setting off into the unknown of college._

Dean got his schedule from the main campus office and checked his room number: 221B. _So that means second floor, B wing_...

Dean walks right into someone when he reaches his dorm door, not paying attention because he was looking down at his paper.

"Hey, watch it-" Dean snaps at the boy, but then his breath catches in his throat when he meets his icy blue gaze.

The boy has to be around his age, but much smaller. He has messy black hair, cerulean eyes, and a baggy tan trench coat that hangs down and covers his hands. Glasses with a thick black frame intensify the blue of his irises. Dean distractedly notices that he looks a bit disheveled; his face red and slightly scratched, and a look of residual panic and pain clouding his features.

"S-sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, I, ah-" the boy is stumbling over his words, clearly flustered and socially awkward. Dean feels his mouth quirk up into a smile, which only worsens the boy's anxiety.

"Hey, it's fine, I'm nervous too. First day?" Dean asks, laughing in an attempt to soothe the boy's panic.

"Um, yeah, is it that obvious?" The smaller boy laughs nervously along with Dean.

"A little," Dean says with another laugh. "What's your name?"

"C-Castiel..."

"Well, 'C-Castiel', my name is Dean Winchester. What room are you in? Maybe you could come over sometime and we'll catch a game or something."

Castiel nods a little too quickly and swallows, fidgeting with the frayed ends of his trench coat sleeves. Dean can tell by the state of the fabric that he does this a lot. "Y-yeah, that'd be great. I'm in 221B. What about you?"

Dean breaks into a grin, "No way! Me too! Looks like we're roomies, Cas!"

He unlocks the door and tosses his bag to the side, Cas following behind him. Then he kicks off his shoes and flops down on the clearly uncomfortable couch, propping his feet up on the armrest. Within seconds he's asleep; his unconscious stress of upcoming classes manifesting in exhaustion.

Castiel

~Earlier that day~

"Castiel!"

Castiel is woken by his mother calling him from downstairs. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, and looks at his clock: 6:00am. Much too early to be alive.

"Castiel!"

"Coming!" He yells, shoving his glasses onto his face and heaving himself out of his bed. He gets dressed in his usual black jeans, white T-shirt, blue tie, and trademark trench coat.

Anna, Michael, and Gabriel were already seated around the table. Castiel had no idea where Raphael was. Probably still asleep, seeing as he has no job or school to go to.

Castiel picks up his bags for school and zips round the table, kissing his siblings (Anna ducks but he gets her on the top of her head anyway) and parents goodbye, and leaves before anyone can say anything about him not eating breakfast.

Castiel manages to get halfway to school without incident, but his luck doesn't extend past skipping breakfast with impunity: two older boys-at least sophomores-decked out in letterman jackets and fuckboy hair, run past him, shoving his head down as they move past him. They laugh wildly, amused at their own antics, and Castiel thanks whatever God there may be that he didn't experience worse.

Well, apparently God wasn't real receptive of that, because two more assholes run up to him and start aggressively harassing him. They grab at his trench coat, laughing and yelling as he clung desperately to the sleeves and hem of his shirt.

"Faggot!"

"Emo freak!"

Castiel is saved by a lone teacher chastising them, and the two boys give him a final shove and run off, leaving Castiel sitting in the dirt behind them.

He picks himself up, silently hoping this isn't a sneak peek at how college life is going to be for him.

Later, he picks up his schedule and navigates his way to his room.

 _God, I hope I don't get stuck with one of them as roommates, he thinks, remembering the boys who harassed him earlier._

Boy, was he wrong.

As he nears his room, a tall blond guy with an insanely strong jawline and piercing green eyes nearly runs him over. Castiel stutters out an apology, but the green eyed beaut waved it away.

"What's your name?" The guy asks.

Oh God, what was his name? He could barely think with that intense gaze upon him.

"C-Castiel..." he stammers.

Castiel loses the first part of the man's response, but he manages to extract the name "Dean Winchester" and "room number" from his jumble of confusion and awestruck-ness.

He stutters out his room number, and to his absolute delight, Dean was in the same room as him!

"Looks like we're roomies, Cas!"

Cas? Did he just call me...Cas?

Castiel couldn't decide whether or not he liked the new nickname. No one had ever given him a nickname before-hell, no one had really talked to him before-but since it came from Dean, he decided he liked it. He also, albeit subconsciously, decided he liked this Dean character as well.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Morning Breaks

_Castiel_

Cas's eyes open slowly. It's late; the sun is already visible in his east-facing window in his bedroom. He's never been able to sleep this late; insomnia rather likes him.

As he contemplates this, a huge racket can be heard from the kitchenette down the hall, which Cas can only assume is Dean making breakfast.

He pulls on his coat and shuffles out of the bedroom.

"Heya, Cas!" Dean chirps cheerfully, scrambling to pick up the pots and pans littered on the kitchen floor.

"Um, hi, Dean..." Cas says awkwardly.

"Jesus, Cas, it's barely 7, why the hell do you have your trench coat on already?"

Cas stiffens ever so slightly, but enough to where Dean can tell to back off.

"Not that I'm judging you or anything, it's just...odd."

Cas nods, noticeably put out. He forces a smile despite himself, and starts to unpack the small suitcase he brought with him. He was originally going to sleep at home, and keep his stuff at the dorm, but now that Dean was here...

"So do you want like, eggs, or what?" Dean calls, examining the frying pan he held in his hands as if looking for an 'on' switch.

"I'm good, thanks," Cas replies easily. He's had too much practice at refusing food to quail at Dean's question.

"You sure? We got class today and I don't want you like, passing out or anything." Dean persists.

"I said I'm good," Cas replies, a little strained. "Maybe later," he tries to make up for his earlier snappish-ness. _God, is this how it's going to be? Cas thinks_ , mind working into overdrive with catastrophic possibilities, _He's already asking about the coat and the food, it's not even the second_ day _! What am I going to do?! Maybe I should just go home, drop out, it's not like I'm going to amount to anything anyway-_ Dammit! Why did it always have to lead there, why does every thought of his eventually turn out to be self-deprecating? Cas sighs and shakes his head. He's already 100% done with the day and school hasn't even started yet.

"All right." Dean shrugs and tosses the pan into the sink with a clang, jolting Cas from his runaway freight train of a mind, "Screw that, cereal is calling my name."

Cas smiles into the suitcase he's leaning over. God, Dean is so freaking adorable.

 _But he was obviously straight. Right? I mean, gorgeous jawline, blond hair, forest green eyes-the ladies must be all over him._ Cas decides not to worry about this right now, and instead turns his thoughts toward school.

God, school. If that wasn't anxiety-inducing, Castiel didn't know what was. All those noises and homework and people and teachers and students and just _people_ -Cas suppresses a shudder. He can do this. 'This too shall pass', is a quote that he always repeated to himself. Whether it be sadness or joy or fatigue, everything ends. It was reassuring and disconcerting at the same time.

Cas is suddenly aware of Dean's eyes on him. He freezes, realizing that he's been staring at a picture of his family and his brother Luci. **(A/N: Lucifer's name has been changed to Lucius for the purpose of this AU, because no one in their right mind names their child after Satan, 'kay?)** It was the last time they had been together as a family before Luci was estranged. He turns to face Dean.

"Yeah? S-sorry, we're you talking to me? I wasn't paying attention, sorry," Cas internally cringes at his repeated stuttered apology. Smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

"No, no, you're good...I was just asking you about that guy in that picture, is he like, your brother, uncle...?" Dean trails off, his right hand gesturing vaguely in the air beside his head.

"Brother." Cas states shortly. "We don't...we don't talk anymore."

Dean nods, looking as if he wished he hadn't asked. "Oh, well...that sucks. Why, what did he-"

"We don't really talk about that, either, Dean," Cas snaps, slightly impatient. Didn't this prick know when to back the hell off?

Dean raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry dude, just asking. So...wanna get to class, or do you plan on sitting here unpacking and repacking your bag all day?"

Cas nods and leaves to his room to get dressed. He couldn't decide if he liked Dean or not. Sure, he was hot as hell and twice as interesting, but he was also nosy and didn't seem to read people very well. Cas wasn't sure if he could trust Dean with any sensitive information. Not that he'd tell him anything...but God, he wanted to. He was tired of lying, but he didn't want to tell the truth either. _I mean, how does one bring that kind of deep shit up in a conversation? "Speaking of Latin verbs, did you know that I have depression and cut myself? While we're on the topic, I also starve myself and hate myself. Good talk. So what did you get on problem #6 for Calculus homework?"_ Cas snorted at this. Yeah, that'd go down well.

Cas slipped on his clothes from yesterday, not really bothered enough to hunt down a change of clothes. He tries not to let his eyes linger on the scars covering his legs and arms, but he sees enough to basically ruin his day.

Cas sighed, turning to face the bathroom mirror. He wasn't even fully aware of how he got to be standing there, it kind of just happened, but now that he was here, it was impossible to leave. He took off his trench coat again, examining the marks on his arms and studying his reflection.

Where most people saw thin arms and angular cheekbones, Cas saw cellulite and a moon-shaped face. Where most people saw ribs showing through his thin T-shirt, he saw a pouch of stomach fat sticking through the fabric. He sighed again. He knew how he probably looked to other people, but damn if he couldn't see it himself.

"Cas, what's taking so long? We're gonna be late, dude," Cas hears Dean's voice coming down the hall and quickly slips on his coat once more and rushes to the door. He arrives just as Dean opens the door and they jolt back awkwardly in surprise, Cas losing his balance and tripping backwards on a stray book and nearly crashing down. Dean's arm shoots out and grabs his wrist, keeping him from falling but in turn sending trails of fire down his arm where Dean's fingers gripped his cuts. Castiel hides his gasp of pain in his startled yelp from falling. Dean pulls him back up, paying no attention to the smaller man's arm (Cas thanks God for this small mercy) and pulls him close-probably, Cas realizes, a little too close (not that he was complaining)-to make sure he doesn't fall again. Cas inhales sharply again, but this has nothing to do with the residual pain on his arm. He was sure he was blushing like hell, but hopes he can pass it off as embarrassment from being so klutzy. Dean and Cas stand there for another few seconds, awkwardly holding each other, when Dean clears his throat and lets go. Castiel realizes that he had grabbed Dean while falling and he had yet to let go. Cas disengages and runs his hand through his already messy black hair and laughs nervously.

"Well, that was awkward.." Cas says, forcing a smile.

"No, not really, actually," Dean replies easily, looping an arm around the shorter man's shoulders. "Let's hope you don't fall again, ya dipstick."

Cas laughs again, more giddy than nervous this time, and leans into Dean, savoring the feel of his muscular side and warm body; however, Dean was already pulling away and Cas nearly fell again, but regained his composure before Dean saw.

In spite of Dean pulling away, Cas felt a happy, warm feeling in his stomach paired with a jittery excitement in his chest. The latter felt a bit like the constricting anxiety he usually felt, but...lighter. Maybe his day won't suck after all.

 _Dean_

Dean strode ahead of Cas so that he wouldn't see the worry creasing his features. Dean had seen the cuts along the boy's arms when he pulled him up. That was actually the whole reason he reacted so fast when Cas was falling: he wanted to have an excuse to confirm his suspicions surreptitiously. Dean didn't know how to deal with this. Hell, he didn't know how to deal with this when Sammy was struggling with this, this self-harm behavior, and that was his own brother. How was he supposed to help this angel of a boy?

 _Angel...what?_ Dean pushes that thought away; there were more pressing matters at hand. Like how the hell he was supposed to bring this up.

Dean sighs as he hears Castiel trotting to keep up with him. He was going to sleep on it, maybe ask Sam for some insight. Hopefully, he could get through the school day without incident.


	3. Chapter 3 - Day One

_Castiel_

Cas walks home, a feeling of lightness in his chest. Everything seems so much brighter; the trees' autumn colors brilliantly contrasting to the dark wood, birds calling to one another, even the air seemed to take on a ethereal quality. He felt...happy. It was almost as if the crushing, suffocating depression that had plagued him all his life had taken a leave of absence.

Cas hasn't felt this way in God knows how many years, and it's all because of the curious man walking beside him.

"So, Cas, how was your first day?"

Cas starts a bit, having been absorbed in his thoughts of green eyes and blond hair.

"It was good," Cas gives his standard answer, then adding "Better than I thought it'd be. Much better."

Dean laughs easily, something Castiel envies.

"How so? The calc teacher is an asshat and we've already got homework!"

Castiel shrugs, feeling unreasonably defensive. "I don't know, it was just a good day for me."

"If you say so," Dean says, smiling.

Cas has to fight the urge in his expanding chest to laugh or scream or cry out of the pure and unadulterated joy in his chest. He never thought he'd feel like this again, and for the first time in a long time, he was happy to be alive.

Cas looks over to Dean, smiling, but pauses when he sees the look on his face. Dean's face is creased with sadness and internal conflict.

"So, Cas..." Dean starts in a tone that brings Cas's mood _way_ down, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Cas nods and swallows, knowing what was coming next. The accusations, the hurt and angry yelling, the inevitable death of a friendship.

"Yeah, Dean?"

Dean takes a deep breath, shuddering as if it pained him to do so.

"When we were back at the dorm...I saw...I saw your wrists. And I'm sorry for bringing it up," he adds quickly, seeing the pain on his new friend's face, "but I need you to know that, well, I'm here for you, man. Anything you need, got me?"

Castiel nods, tears pricking his eyes. He was silent, for he knew if he spoke he would lose it.

"Say something, Cas. I need to know you'll talk to me, and if not me, then someone else who can help you."

Cas inhales shakily, "Yeah, Dean. I will."

Dean nods, visibly relived. A few moments pass in strained silence, and Castiel is about to say something, anything to break the tension, when Dean starts talking again, slowly and haltingly at first, then faster as he gained momentum.

"I...I have a kid brother. Sammy. He...he used to do this too. I talked to him today while I was waiting for you to get out of English. He told me..he told me that I needed to talk about it with you as soon as possible, because if I didn't and you...I don't know, went too deep or something, I would never forgive myself. So, here I am, talking to you." Dean finishes with a weak, watered-down smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Cas is silent, the joy he felt earlier completely gone. His initial fear was gone too, replaced by stifling sadness and guilt and self-hatred. God, when would he ever stop fucking things up?

"I understand, Dean. Thank you for your concern. I appreciate it greatly." Cas says robotically, regressing to the matter-of-fact voice tone and language he use when he was too emotionally involved to give an actual answer.

Dean gave Cas a sideways look, "Cas, it's not just concern, buddy. It's caring. It's love, okay?"

Cas looks up quickly at the last words, excitement sparking in him despite the circumstances.

Dean backtracks hastily, "You know what I mean, Cas. I'm doing this because I don't want you to end up like my brother."

Cas cocks his head, "I thought you just spoke to him?"

"He's not dead, although if I hadn't found him a few years back he would be. He tried to kill himself, Cas. He cut way too deep, and instead of calling for help, he just cut deeper and took a Tylenol-NyQuil-tranquilizer cocktail. It was bad, Cas. I don't want to see you do the same." Dean finishes, his breath catching on the last sentence.

Cas is crying now, tears running down his face silently. He's imagining what would happen if Anna had his same problems. What would he do if she tried to kill herself? Cas stifles a sob when he pictures his little sister's body, deep lacerations down her arms, lying in a bathtub full of warm, blood red water. Dean has to look away so he won't break down as well.

"I-I'm sorry, Dean," Cas chokes out, inhaling a stuttering breath. "I promise I'll talk to you, but..."

"But what, Cas?"

"But it's going to be really hard for me. Please be patient. Years of hating myself isn't going to go away overnight." Cas says, not meeting Dean's eyes.

"God, Cas...I'm so sorry..." Dean says in a pained voice.

"Don't be. You're the first person not to yell or be angry with me when they found out. And also the first person I promised I'd talk to and actually mean it." Cas admits.

Cas takes another deep, shuddering breath. A huge weight had been lifted off his chest. His throat was tight with tears, but his heart was free. He had finally found a friend.

"I'm glad I could be that person for you, Cas. I just wish I had found you sooner."

"Me too, Dean. Me too."

 _Dean_

Dean unlocks the door to the door, and just as Cas is about to turn down the hall, he makes a split second decision and pulls Cas into a hug. The smaller man stiffens, then slowly relaxes into him. Shaky fingers find their way into the fabric of Dean's hoodie and clench its fabric, balling it up as sobs shake Cas's body. Dean rubs his hands over Cas's back soothingly, his heart twisting when he feels the bones protruding even through his trench coat. Dean strokes the back of Cas's head, surprised at how soft his hair is. Dean tries not to think how out of character this is for him. "No chick-flick moments" was his policy. But his heart had a soft spot for the dark haired boy clutching to him like a drowning man does a life preserver.

"Cas, hey, it's okay. You're okay. It'll be okay. You're going to be okay. One step at a time, all right?"

He can feel Cas nodding into his shoulder, his finger still tangled in the fabric of Dean's jacket.

When they finally separate, Dean hooks Cas's chin and forced him to look in his eyes.

"I need you to give me your blades, okay?"

Cas's eyes are full of tears of self-hatred and desperation. Dean's heart aches. He can't imagine how it would tear you apart to be dependent on something that literally destroyed you.

"Dean...I can't. I...I need them.." Cas cringes, tears spilling from his blue eyes as he squeezes them shut. "God, that sounds awful..."

Dean nods, "Yeah, yeah it does. But it's okay. Just give them to me. We have to start somewhere, okay?"

Castiel inhales and closes his eyes. "They're in my suitcase. There's a false bottom on it. They're under there."

Dean nods, slightly concerned about the security levels of his blades. He leaves Cas in the hallway, staring at the floor tiles.

After Dean finishes collecting the blades-finding two more in the bathroom that Cas didn't tell him about, which worries Dean greatly.

Dean returns to Cas, who is where he left him, kneeling on the floor, arms wrapped around his slight frame.

"I got the ones you've told me about, but I found two more in the bathroom. Are there any more I don't know about?"

Castiel nods, a pained look in his cobalt eyes. "Yes, but I kind of just want to sleep right now. Can I get them in the morning?"

Dean reluctantly nods. "Okay, but I want you to sleep in my room tonight, all right?"

It's Castiel's turn to nod reluctantly, but he looks grateful as well.

"Okay."

Dean smiles, a genuine one that warms Cas's heart.

 _Castiel_

Castiel lays on his makeshift bed, staring lifelessly at the wall in front of his. Dried tear tracks are sticky on his cold face, and he wishes Dean hadn't found those two razors.

Cas turns over to look at Dean's form on the bed above him. He can tell from the relatively shallow rise and fall of the young man's chest that he's only pretending to be asleep.

Despite this, Cas quietly gets up, and pads over to Dean's bed. He gets in carefully, trying not to let the bed springs squeak as he slips between the covers. Dean's breathing grows irregular, and Castiel knows that Dean knows he's in bed with him. Dean hadn't said anything up to this point, so Cas took it to mean he was okay with it.

Once Cas is settled, he falls asleep almost immediately.

 _Dean_

Once he hears Castiel's breathing slow into sleep, Dean is careful not to wake Cas up as he turns over and slowly, slowly reaches his arm over the sleeping boy and snuggle into him. Dean knew Cas needed compassion, so he was willing to set aside any heterosexual misgivings he might have and comfort him.

The two sleep peacefully through the night.


	4. Chapter 4 - Waking Up Happy

_Dean_

Dean wakes to feel a small form pressed against his. He opens his eyes and finds Cas curled up into his chest, his nose pressed into Dean's shoulder. His breath tickled his collarbone, and his hair brushed at Dean's face. Dean angled his face so that he could study this curious anomaly that was Castiel Novak.

He looks so peaceful, laying there beside Dean. The lines of tension and sadness and anxiety that usually creased his features are gone, replaced by soft, gentle sloping of cheekbones to nose to chin. Long dark lashes twitch as his eyes move under his lids. Dean hopes he was dreaming of something happy. Cas was just so incredibly...perfect.

Then Dean's eyes travel farther down his body, and his heart breaks. Red gashes crisscross his bare arms, some almost fully scarred over, some looking as fresh as two days ago. Puckered white bands line his upper arms, several years old. Dean feels so hopelessly useless to ease this boy's suffering. Dean can tell the Novak hadn't been eating (Dean makes a mental note to ask Sammy for advice on that one too); his arms are thin and wiry and his collarbones are frighteningly apparent. Dean would bet real money that his ribs could be counted individually had his shirt been off. Dean's mind begins to wander elsewhere after this particular thought, but he is brought back to reality when Cas stirs next to him. Dean instinctively shuts his eyes and slows his breathing.

Dean feels Cas stiffen, then relax. Dean can almost hear him smiling, and he has to stifle one of his own.

"Dean, I know you're awake."

Dean smiles and says, "No I'm not," without opening his eyes. "I'm totally, 100% unconscious."

Cas laughs, a sound that makes Dean's heart do a little jump thing. Dean opens his eyes as Cas moves away.

Suddenly, Cas's eyes go wide with realization, and his hands go to his arms, feeling vainly for a sleeve to pull down, before he pulls the blanket up in an attempt to shield his scars from view.

"Hey, woah woah Cas, it's okay, take it easy. I'm not judging you or staring or hating you. You can let me see. Or not," Dean amends, seeing the look of terror on the blue eyed boy's face. "Just whatever you feel comfortable with."

Cas nods, relaxing his hold on the sheets but not lowering them a fraction of an inch.

"So. Breakfast?" Dean suggests.

Cas nods again, "Uh, sure. I'll get dressed."

The two get out of bed and shuffle off to their respective rooms.

At breakfast time, Dean serves Cas a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, with the same for himself plus coffee.

Cas just stares at the food.

"Come on, Cas, buddy, you gotta eat." Dean pleads.

"Actually, Dean, I think I'll just have some coffee, thanks." Cas says, not meeting Dean's eyes.

"No, you need to eat. Please," Dean says, a look of begging in his eyes.

Cas inhales shakily and picks up his fork.

Dean wants to grin from ear to ear and clap Castiel on the back, but does neither. He settles for a small smile and a mouthed _thank you_. Cas sees this and smiles a little in response, eliciting a wave of relief mixed with an unknown emotion rushing through Dean.

Cas and Dean finish their meal in silence and without eye contact, but both could feel the other glancing up when they thought the other man wasn't looking.

Dean gets up and claps Cas on the back, "Thanks Cas." He notices how the Novak flinched when he raised his hand. Yet another thing to ask Sammy about...

Dean is too preoccupied with this thought to notice the dark haired boy steal away to the bathroom.

 ** _Castiel_**

Cas exits the bathroom, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Part of him feels guilty for going behind Dean's back like this, but the majority of him is lowkey flipping out,

How am I going to keep this up while he's around? He's not the kind to sit back and watch you destroy yourself, he's going to make you eat, make you stop cutting, tell your parents...

Cas inhales shakily and meets Dean at the door.

"Ready?" Dean says, grinning.

"Nope," Cas replies, a smile finding its way onto his face. "Not at all."

 ** _Dean_**

"Okay, Sammy, you really need to help me on this one."

 _"Dean, just do what you think is right! Do what you did when it was me: stay close and be loving. You've already done the right thing by catching it early, but any more and you'll drive him away."_ Sam sighs, his breath crackling over the line, _"To be honest, I don't remember much of that time, but I do remember the kindness. The love. I remember who was nice to me and who wasn't. He'll remember you, just make sure it's a good memory."_

The phone clicked off, and Dean sighed, flipping the phone shut with a resigned clack.

"Hey, Dean!" Dean hears a familiar voice behind him. His face breaks into a grin even before he turns around, even despite the previous conversation.

"Heya Cas," he says, slapping the smaller man a high five. He is immensely relieved that Cas seemed to be warming up to him.

"So how were classes?" Dean asks. One of the tips Sam had given him to make Cas come out of his shell was to ask open-ended, non-threatening questions.

Cas groans, and launches into a story about how it was the _second day_ -the second day!-and the amount of homework they were given.

"I mean, you see all those Tumblr posts about how college is way easier than your parents make it out to be, and you know what they are? LIES." Cas has an animated grin on his face and his hands are gesturing wildly in the air, and all of this brings a smile to Dean's face. Dean had only known him for a couple days, but he can tell Castiel hasn't always been in the state he was now: animated, smiling, happy.

Dean hopes he can make a difference in this boy's life. He doesn't want to come to the dorm and enter the bathroom to see Cas lying there, comatose from an overdose or covered in blood or God forbid dead-

Dean stops himself, and focuses on all the ways Cas is not dead.

His hands. Dead people's hands don't wave in excited motions, depicting the injustice of the Kansas school system. His eyes. Dead eyes aren't blue and lively, and the colors wouldn't be so deep and blue and look like an endless frozen ocean, nestled in a snowy expanse of fresh white powder on the slope of a mountain-

"Dean. Dean."

Dean snaps out of it, genuinely clueless about where his mind was.

"Dean. Why're you looking at me like that?"

Dean shakes his head, looking down and biting his lip to stop the shy smile that was curling his mouth. "Nothing Cas..." Dean says, but blurts out a split second later, "Hey, did anyone ever tell you you have really pretty eyes?"

Cas trips over his feet and face plants on the pavement despite Dean's feeble attempts to catch him-Dean didn't want to hurt his wrists again.

Castiel looks up from where he's sprawled on the ground, then finds his way to a seated position.

"I-I what?" Cas splutters, his cheeks flushing, blood dripping down his face from a cut on his forehead, "I have pretty eyes?"

"Jesus, Cas, your head just split open, let me help you."

Cas stilled himself as Dean got down to his level and pulled out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and began dabbing at the wound.

As the silence and the tension from the loaded question stretch out between them, Dean knows he has two decisions: awkwardly say "never mind" and never speak of it again, or embrace the awkward and play it up.

He decides on the second one,

"Well, you know, they're nice eyes. I wish I had eyes like that. Mine are just green."

Cas looks at him disbelievingly, "You serious? I'd kill to have your eyes. They're like a...forest. Like a forest of pine trees."

Dean laughs, glad that the awkward had passed. "Pine trees? That's specific."

Cas shrugs, "Well, pines are evergreen, and I'm betting your eyes don't look any duller in winter, in fact they'd probably look brighter-" Cas stops, aware he's crossed some heterosexual line. "I'm sorry, Dean, I swear sometimes I'm way too gay to function," he laughs, running his hand through his already messy hair, sending an odd tingle through Dean.

"Wait, you're gay?" Dean asks, equal parts confused and intrigued.

Cas laughs, "Yeah, did the word 'faggot' spray painted across my car not enlighten you enough?"

Dean nodded, not sure whether to sympathize for the vandalism or to probe further into the gay-ness.

"I'm-I'm sorry for your car, um, I didn't do it, obviously, since I didn't know you were, um, gay, but..."

Cas laughs again, "It's fine Dean, I don't mind. I'm used to it," he says this last part quieter, his smile dropping a little.

"Cas, no one should have to get used to being hurt so much that vandalism doesn't even bother them. That's stupid as hell."

Cas shrugs, "Well, I am. I'm so used cutting myself that a freaking head wound seems like nothing. I'm so used to starving myself, a skipped lunch seems like a missed snack." His voice had changed from passive and matter-of-fact to hard and spiteful. As soon as he said these words, however, his face stills and grief comes into his watery blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Dean. Sometimes I'm a bit too broken to function, too."

Dean's _heart_ is about to be too broken to function, and he looks hard into Cas's eyes.

"Listen to me, Castiel Novak: you are not too broken. You are perfect and you deserve to be happy. You need to get that through that head of yours and then never let it go. You. Are. Loved. It doesn't matter if no one has before now, because all the matters is right here, right now."

The sun has almost set now, and there were very little people in the fading light. Dean is struck by the intense desire to pull Cas's face towards him and kiss the fuck out of him, wrap him in his arms and squeeze him so tightly that he might stick all the pieces back together.

Cas's eyes are locked onto his, an anomaly in it of itself as Cas was generally very bad with eye contact. His breath catches in his throat, and the moment seems to still: the air has taken on an otherworldly quality, the remaining light in the sky filters through the darkening trees, illuminating sporadic motes of dust in the cooling air, and Dean is aware of the blood rushing in his ears, Cas's face is right there, right within reach, and-

"Thanks, Dean. I...I really appreciate it." Cas's face breaks into a small smile, but his voice completely shattered the moment.

Dean clears his throat and nods. "All righty then. Good talk." Dean puts up the nonchalant, neutral façade he normally used and jumps to his feet. He offers Cas a hand, which he takes, trying to digest the butterflies in his stomach.

The two walk home without another word being spoken, each absorbed in their own version of the events that played out.


	5. Chapter 5 - Drugs and Hugs

_Castiel_

Castiel is at the Walmart two blocks from Lawrence Community College. His eyes wandered the shelves in the pharmaceutical section. He was picking up his Zoloft prescription, but it was taking a while to fill, so he was just killing time when his eyes found...a set of scales. Cas freezes and his heart jumps. He had a little extra cash, scales were a practical necessity, he wouldn't become obsessed, he can do this... _no_ , he tells himself firmly, _no_. He had promised Dean. But still...

As if on cue, Dean comes striding up beside Dean and claps him on the shoulder, making Cas jump involuntarily.

"Hey Cas, we almost done here?" Dean asks in his usual loud, to-the-point voice. He looks up at the scales Cas was having an internal war over. "Whatcha lookin at? Cas..." he says when he puts two and two together, "seriously? The answer is no."

Cas's temper flares and he says defensively, "I didn't ask your permission, Dean. I wasn't even going to buy them anyway. I was just looking."

Dean rolls his eyes, "All right Cas, whatever. Just so you know, hypothetically, if you were to buy a theoretical set of scales, I would take them and break them. Comprende?"

"Sí. No voy a comprar estas básculas de baño." Cas rattles off in perfect Spanish, partly showing off and partly trying to diffuse the tension with a joke, "Plus, you didn't even use the word 'theoretical' correctly."

Dean rolls his eyes again, so hard Cas genuinely wondered if they'd pop out of his orbital cavities. "oH MY GOD CAS, WE KNOW YOU'RE SMART, NOW SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Cas laughs, all tension gone from his shoulders and face, purely and totally given himself over to the moment. "I think my prescription's ready, Dean."

"I got it," Dean volunteers, sprinting to the check-in counter. Cas starts after him, a split second behind, his heart and feet light with laughter and a jittery happiness that filled his soul with joy. Hell, at this rate, he won't even need those antidepressants!

Dean beats Cas to the counter and collects the paper packet that the pharmacist handed him, Cas reaching him a second later and giggling as he leaned against him for support.

The pharmacist grinned at the two, "You boys are cute," she said approvingly, looking the pair over.

Cas nearly falls over as Dean suddenly pulls away, straightening himself as he stammers,

"No, we're not, uh, I'm not gay, we're roommates actually-"

"It's fine, Dean," Cas says coldly, the laughter gone as quickly as it came. He was hurt, but if he had learned one thing by now, it was how to conceal his pain.

Dean's face is pained and conflicted, but he says nothing. The pharmacist is looking awkwardly between the two apparently heterosexual men.

"...that will be $9.45. Your insurance saved you $16.93. Have a good day." she breaks the silence robotically, and Cas hurries to swipe his HSA card.

As they arrive home, Cas dumps his school things on the dining room table and heads straight for his room, locking the door behind him and crouching on the floor in the dark.

His mind was a whirlwind of emotions: anger at Dean for being straight, hurt that Dean was so quick to deny any feelings for him, sadness because he's _so fucking fucked-up_ , frustrated and furious at himself for falling in love with the man even though he promised himself he wouldn't, and most (and worst) of all, the overwhelming ache that was gone while he was laughing with Dean was back in full force. It constricted his heart, crushing his rib cage around the deceptively fragile muscle, and Cas was on his knees and pulling on his hair, a silent scream building in his throat as he cried noiselessly.

All of a sudden, the feeling is gone. Cas looks up, takes a deep breath, and is filled with a sense of surreal calmness. He is in control. He will not be a slave to his depression.

Even in his unreal state of mind, he realizes how big of a step that is for him. He has always imagined Depression as a corporeal being, sitting in the back of his mind and preying on him without Cas being able to do anything to stop it. But today, today he said _no_ for the first time.

"Cas?" Dean's voice comes from outside his door, hesitant, "You okay in there dude?"

Cas nods, and then remembers Dean can't hear him. "Yes." He is surprised at how convincing and steady his voice sounds. "Yeah, I'm good Dean. I'll be out in a minute."

Cas heard nothing from Dean, but he can tell he hasn't moved from his spot outside the door. Cas feels like Dean is about to say something, and he does,

"Hey...Hey, Cas?"

Cas laughs softly, "Haven't moved, Dean."

Cas hears Dean chuckle quietly as he says, "Yeah, I was just thinking..."

Cas silently gets up and pads over to the door on socked feet. He leans on the side of the wall next to the door, imagining Dean doing the same on the opposite side.

"Yeah?"

He can almost hear the indecision and confusion in the other man's head.

Dean sighs, "Nothing, Cas. Just wondering what you wanted for dinner is all."

Cas can hear the defeat in Dean's voice, and that's what spurred him to press the issue instead of dropping it like he usually does.

"Dean, wait..."

The footsteps that had been fading back out to the main room made their way back, pausing outside the door hopefully.

"Yeah?"

Now it's Cas's turn to falter and look or excuses. "Oh, I don't know, it's just you sounded like you wanted to say something else is all."

Dean's sharp intake of breath sends a spike of an unknown emotion into Cas's heart.

"Yeah, actually, I was, but...I kinda don't wanna say it, to be honest..."

Cas's heart races at the possibilities of what Dean doesn't want to say, some good, some of them bad, some of them _very bad_ , but all of them quite exciting.

When Dean doesn't say anything further, Cas says,

"How about this: I tell you something I don't want to tell you, and you'll tell me?"

Silence, which Cas presumes is Dean thinking over the proposal.

"Okay, deal." Dean agrees, and then takes a deep breath. "Cas, have you...have you hurt yourself recently?"

 _Oh. That's not what I was expecting. Well fuck._

"What were you expecting?" Dean asks, confused.

Cas cringes, not aware he had said that out loud. "Not that, I guess. And no, I haven't, you can check me if it helps you sleep at night."

Dean laughs softly at the facetious remark. "It would, actually, so I'll have to take you up on that offer. So, your turn."

Cas leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes as he tries to think of something of meaning to tell Dean, since he obviously can't tell him what he was originally going to say. He tries to think of something serious enough that Dean will be satisfied with without exposing his feelings too much.

"I, ah, I was actually going to buy them. The scales, I mean. Las básculas," he adds, hoping to win an audible laugh from the other side of the wall. He doesn't get one.

"Yeah, I kinda knew that. It's fine though, because I got to you in time. As long as that happens, we're good. Right?"

"Right." Cas nods, smiling a little even though he knows Dean can't see it.

"Come on, let's eat. I've got some ramen that I picked up while we were at the store."

Cas nods, opens the door, and follows his roommate into the light.


	6. Chapter 6 - Don't Try Suicide

_Dean_

 _Stupid, stupid, STUPID Dean!_

Dean mentally chants to himself as he lies in bed that night, staring at the wall in front of him. He wants to literally smash his head in with one of the bricks lining the campus walkways because he is _so fucking STUPID!_

He had a chance, and he missed it. He had a reason to tell Cas he loved him, and what does he do? He fucks it up.

Dean had long since accepted he was not 100% heterosexual, roughly at the same time he admitted that he was head-over-heels, hopelessly, way-too-gay-to-function in love with Castiel James Novak. But what to do about it?! Just because Cas was gay doesn't mean he reciprocated his feelings for him, Dean knows this.

Dean sighs. He would give literally anything short of selling his own soul to the king of Hell to reclaim that moment when Cas was in his bed, lying next to him, sleeping peacefully for what was probably the first time in weeks.

Dean's thoughts begin to wander elsewhere at the notion of him and Cas in the same bed, but he brings his mind back to the present when he hears poorly stifled sobs drifting into his room through the thin dorm wall that separates him and Cas. Dean debates for a half second between allowing Cas his space or going in to investigate the cause of his crying, then heaves his six foot frame from his creaky bed and ventures to the door.

He knocks on Castiel's door softly twice with his first two knuckles, and the sobs were quickly but ineffectually silenced.

"Cas?" Dean's voice comes out gravelly with concern and trepidation. "Can I come in?"

Dean hears nothing.

"No," Cas finally says shakily. "Please don't."

Dean's pulse quickens, because that is not the thing you say when everything is hunky-dory.

"Well, I'm coming in anyway. Make yourself decent." Dean tries to throw in a joke to ease his nerves, but regrets saying anything the instant he spoke.

"Dean..." Cas protests weakly as Dean opens the door, spilling silver light from the nightlight Cas insisted on having in the hall into the darkened room.

"Cas..." It was Dean's turn to utter the other man's name when he saw Cas sitting in the middle of his floor, blood spilling from his forearms and onto the carpeted floor.

Dean rushed forward and takes Cas's arms gently in his own, his heart twisting painfully in his chest as he feels the depth of the cuts and the tackiness of the partly dried blood on Cas's painfully thin arms. Dean notices distractedly that Cas's hair is wet and his clothes are damp.

Cas is silent, his eyes staring blankly at his mutilated arm. This concerns Dean, because if it were him, he'd be flipping the fuck out. But Cas remains as motionless as the stone his face seems to be carved from.

"Cas, buddy, we gotta stop the bleeding," Dean says, searching his face for some kind of emotion.

Cas slowly nods, his eyes remaining downcast.

"Alright, sit tight, I'll be right back," Dean gets up to find a towel in the bathroom to staunch the bleeding with.

Dean freezes when he steps in something sticky and wet. He fumbles for his phone to to light up the carpeted floors, and his light reveals a trail of blood leading to the bathroom. Dean's heart plummets to the floor as he hurries to the bathroom.

The bathroom is a mess: blood blossoms like a crimson flower on the floor; a trail leading from the shower stall to the toilet seat to the door highlights the route Cas presumably took after his shower; there is a dismantled shaving razor sitting on the sink edge, one of its blades sitting alone and bloody on the tile floor. The shower is still on, washing the still-wet blood down the drain in a watery orange stream.

Dean's heart is racing into overdrive; he had severely underestimated how badly Castiel was hurt. Dean turns and bolts back to the smaller man huddled on the bedroom floor, and bundles Cas's insubstantial weight into his leanly muscled arms and races to his Impala parked outside.

Dean sets Cas gently in the passenger seat, not able to care less about the blood pooling in his Baby's pristine vinyl seats.

The drive to the hospital was agonizingly slow, despite no one being on the road at 12:14 am and Dean blowing through every red light and ignoring every stop sign.

"Cas, Cas, you gotta stay with me buddy, okay? Please, Cas..." Dean was full on crying now, one hand on the wheel, one hand clutching at Cas, whose head was nodding as he slid in and out of consciousness.

"Stay awake, stay awake, please Cas, I love you, please stay awake..."

Dean curses himself for leaving behind the towel in his haste, and noted that the bleeding is slowing down by itself-Dean isn't sure if this is a good sign or a bad one.

Dean risks a glance at Cas's face and his world comes crashing down around him when he sees his roomate's face.

His lips are colorless, his face is ashen and pallor, and any and all life has been sucked out of him and drained through the frighteningly deep cuts on Cas's forearms.

Dean chokes back a sob, and turns his gaze back to the road, too late to see a pair of headlights headed directly at the Impala.

Dean's eyes fly wide as the semi truck collides with them head on, sending his world into unwelcome blackness.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Death of an Angel

_**Castiel**_

The world has never looked so dark.

Cas lies on the cold ground staring up at the stars. They're strangely beautiful, shimmering through the blood red haze descending over his vision.

He can feel his limbs bent at unnatural angles, and even through the searing pain in his right leg and the burning numbness settling in his forearms, Castiel can hear Dean calling his name weakly.

"Cas...Castiel..." Dean's voice comes from somewhere off to his left. "Are you there?"

Cas tries to open his mouth to speak, but his senses are flooded with the acrid stench of burning oil and smoke and singed vinyl, effectively choking off any sound he might have made. He can hear a ringing in his ears that has grown to a earsplitting scream, blocking out everything that he might hear.

Pain begins to take over his body, the corners of his vision begins to darken, but all Castiel can do is look at the stars.

 _ **Dean**_

"Cas...Castiel..." Dean's voice is strained and anguished. "Are you there?"

Silence.

Dean's heart feels like it's breaking. He can't bear the thought of Cas lying bloody and broken in the wreckage of his beloved Impala. Dean refuses to entertain the notion of Cas being anything worse than badly hurt.

Dean tries to reach for his phone to call 911, but he cries out in pain as he tried to move his arms. Both of them seem to be broken.

Dean does something he's never done before: he prays.

 _God, please, if you're real, if you care about your children at all, please, please, let Cas live. That's all I ask._

Dean hears sirens in the distance, and relief floods him and he allows darkness take him home.

Dean wakes to white walls and blinding white light.

For a minute he thinks he died and went to heaven, but then the pain in his arms set in and a pounding headache reveals itself to him and he knows he survived.

Dean groans and looks around his hospital room.

It was pretty bland, as most hospital rooms are. Several machines were hooked up to Dean, making various beeping sounds; there was a fake plant in the window that faces out to the hallway whose purpose Dean assumes to be was to liven up the clinical, sterile room a bit.

Suddenly, Dean is hit with a wave a panic concerning Cas.

 _Where is he? Is he alive? Is he hurt? Cas!_

Dean looks around frantically for a nurse, but can't see any from the confines of his hospital bed. Dean spies a red button with a faded but still discernible CALL NURSE printed above it.

Dean reaches for the button, but is stopped by a sharp pain in his arms. Dean just now realizes both his arms are firmly wrapped in layers of Ace bandages and gauze, and from the rigidity of his joints he can tell his arms have also been splinted.

 _How the fuck am I supposed to call the nurse with two broken arms?_ Dean thought disbelievingly. He wanted to talk to the one in charge of that decision.

Fortunately, a nurse walks by his room at that time, and Dean calls out to her in a croaky voice,

"Ma'am? Miss? Excuse me?"

The nurse backtracks to his room and pokes her head in,

"Oh good, you're awake! Your father-Bobby, was it?-is here in the waiting room if you'd like to see him."

Dean's heart drops down through the bed and settles on the sterile white laminate floor. His own dad didn't want to see him?

At least Bobby cares enough to see me when I almost died, Dean thinks bitterly.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. Is my brother there too?"

"I think he went home; it's almost 5am, he's been here most of the night," the nurse responds.

As the nurse is about to leave, Dean calls out suddenly, "What about Cas? Castiel Novak."

The nurse's perpetual smile wavers and she says, "I can't tell you that right now. You need rest, we can't have you worrying about someone else when you should be worrying about yourself." With that, she disappears.

Dean rolled his eyes in disbelief and panic starts to set in. Didn't the nurse know that he would worry even more if he didn't know Cas was okay?

As Dean looks around for some way to escape his bonds, he hears someone clear their throat in front of him.

Dean's head snaps up and his eyes settle on a short-ish man with a scruffy beard and a smart black suit.

"Who're you?" Dean asks warily, already suspicious about this new character.

"Doesn't matter right now. Let's just cut to the chase: your friend is dying. I can help," the man says. He has a British accent and a condescending voice that sounds confident in having the upper hand on the situation.

"Cas? Cas is dying?" Dean's heart climbs its way back up into his throat, a lump of emotion constricting his words. "How do you know? You're not hospital staff, are you?"

The British man laughs bitterly. "No, no I'm much more than that. I'm Crowley," he says it as if it is a grand title.

"Crowley," Dean repeats. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell."

"As in the King of Hell?"

Dean stares at the man blankly.

The man-Crowley-seems slightly put out, but digresses.

"Anyways, Dean, I was wondering if you'd like to strike a deal: one human soul for another."

Dean snorts, "A human soul? What kind of sick joke is that? You're crazy. Get lost, you creep."

Crowley rolls his eyes, "I'm not a creep, I'm trying to help you, you ungrateful bastard!"

Dean narrows his eyes at the man, "Okay, so let's say I do 'sell my soul' to you. How do I know you're not just conning me and that Cas is perfectly healthy?"

Crowley advances on Dean and touches two fingers to his forehead. After a dizzying, lurching sensation, Dean finds himself by his best friend's bedside. Cas is laid out on the hospital gurney, blanched as the sheets he's resting on. His lips are pale, and his breathing is shallow, filtered through a tube jammed down his throat. The wires and machines hooked up to him beep faintly and weakly, which worries Dean. It breaks Dean's heart to see him like this: fragile, broken, and clinging to life halfheartedly.

He buries his face into Cas's neck, his movements hindered by his bandaged arms and Cas's wires.

Dean feels tears gather in his eyes and blinks them away, embarrassed at the thought of crying in front of this stranger. He pulls away, his touch lingering on Cas's heavily bandaged arms.

"Sorry. Can you...can you really fix him?"

"Good as new. Scout's honor." Crowley holds up three fingers in a mock salute.

Dean nods, gaze still fixed on Cas's shallowly rising and falling chest.

"So how does this work? I just give you my soul, and when I die, I go to Hell? Forever?"

Crowley nods, "Hit it right on the head."

Dean is caught in a moment of indecision. Should he do this? Should he actually sell his soul to the Devil to save the man he loves' life? Forever was an awful long time to be burning...but the rest of his life was going to be a living hell without Cas.

Dean inhales shakily. "How long...how long would I have? Before I die, I mean."

Crowley hums, his hand resting near his mouth, pretending to think about it. "Well, normally I'd give you ten years, but in this case I'm not sure if I have ten whole years to give. After all, he might survive, but will he ever love you back...? How badly do you want him, Dean?"

Dean's eyes fill with tears. "I would do anything for him. You're right. I do love him."

God, was that a hell of an understatement. Dean _adored_ him, _cherished_ him. Dean wished he had bigger words than "love" to describe Cas. He wished he had words for the way Cas's eyes lit up like Christmas when he saw Dean, how Cas would grit his teeth and force food down his throat even though he hated everything about eating, he did it for Dean and Dean alone. He wished he could describe to this Crowley person how Cas's raven hair was perpetually ruffled and how his strikingly blue irises were intensified by the thick black frames of his glasses, and how it hurt Dean to see those scars crisscrossing his beautiful body, how much it killed Dean to know that Cas didn't think he was worthy of the slightest affection. Dean wished all of these things and more, but the one thing he could have was sitting in front of him, dying. Dean wanted him so, so badly, but what about what Cas wants? How would he react when he found out that Dean had literally sold his soul to Satan to save him, when the last thing he wanted was to be saved?

Dean sets his jaw and looks Crowley in the eye. "I love him, so much, and I want him more than anything I've ever wanted before. But he wouldn't want me to burn in Hell for a mistake he made. I decline."

Crowley shrugs and says, "So be it."

Crowley snaps his fingers and disappears, and in that exact instant, the machinery hooked up to Cas begin to scream, warning lights and beeping going off as Cas's body arches, his arms and legs jerking and twitching as he chokes on the breathing tube that was supposed to be helping him breathe. Foam trickles from the corners of his mouth as hitching gasps are ripped from his throat.

Dean is paralyzed with fear, the shrieking of the machines completely disabling any reactions he might have had to seeing his best friend, the man he loved, dying in front of him, all because he was too selfish to save him when he had the chance.

Nurses rush into the room, and one preps the defibrillator while another one rips open Cas's hospital gown, exposing his chest and protruding ribs, as well as numerous scars. Dean feels a painful twisting in his chest as he realizes, yet again, how much Cas had been hurting and how little he knew.

Another nurse tries to shoo him out, but Dean digs his heels in and the nurse gives up, focusing on the dying boy in front of him.

"Clear!" one of the nurses shout as all the other nurses remove their hands from Cas's body, which arches again as electricity so pumped into his body in a feeble attempt to restart his heart.

Dean is crying now, tears streaming down his face as he watches, powerless to stop it, the death of an angel.

But is he powerless? Dean tries to call out to Crowley. _How in the holy hell do you contact a demon? Is there like a Dark Side version of praying?_

"Crowley, you son of a bitch, come back! I accept! Any time span. I'll take it!" Dean cries out, his eyes screwed shut as hatred and pain and absolute anguish courses through his body.

When he opens his eyes, Crowley is standing in front of him.

"You have ten months. Make them count." With that, Crowley pulls Dean close and kisses him deeply and briefly, much to Dean's confusion and disgust.

When Crowley pulls back, Dean wipes his mouth vigorously on his hand, and returns his gaze back to Castiel.

With joy and pure gratefulness filling his chest, Dean's eyes light upon Castiel's living, breathing body. The nurses's frenzy slows. The machines return to a normal, steady beat. Dean can breathe again.

One of the nurses-the same one that tried to usher Dean out a little while ago-catches Dean by the shoulder and marches him to his room, lecturing about how he needs to stay in his own damn room and stop nearly killing other patients. Dean can barely hear him over his own thoughts, though:

 _What the hell? Did that actually work? Is Cas going to live? Ten months? Is that how long I have left to live? Did I actually sell my soul to the fucking Devil?_

Dean was happy, hell, he was ecstatic that Cas was going to be okay, but he was still having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that he apparently had ten months to live.

 _Well, I guess I'll jus_ t _have to make them count_.

When Dean returns to his hospital room, he grabs a pad of paper and a pen and begins to write:

 _Three Hundred Day Bucket List:_

 _Day one: save a_ _life._

Check.


	8. Chapter 8 - Beautiful

A/N:

Hey guys, so sorry for the hiatus, it wasn't too terribly long, but it was long enough. Here's the next chapter, enjoy!

-Hannah

 ** _Dean_**

The air smells like spring.

Dean usually tries not to let his effeminate appreciation of nature get the best of him, but he still breathes in the sweet morning air in deep, fragrant sighs.

Of course, he is slightly more likely to enjoy Kansas's natural beauty when his own natural beauty is hobbling along on his crutches beside him, blue eyes trained on the black and yellow insects buzzing through the air. The two men were walking the trail around the hospital grounds, taking advantage of the beautiful weather and convenient visiting hours.

Dean breathes deeply again, savoring the smell of new life.

"You all right there, Dean?" Castiel's deep voice in the still silence startles Dean.

"Yeah, just peachy. Why?"

Cas laughs softly, still distractedly watching the bees. "No reason, your breathing just sounds slightly Vader-ish."

Dean laughs and claps Cas on the back, being careful of the boy's fragile structure. "Looks like I've taught you well. The padawan becomes the Jedi!"

Cas smiles and ducks his head and Dean swears his heart explodes.

"No, man, I'm good, it's just...nature I guess. It's full of awe and potential, the balance of life and death, the way it can be destroyed by fire and rise again, it's just...beautiful." Dean says the last word looking directly into Cas's brilliant eyes.

Cas nods and his smile falters a bit, which confuses him.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all, Dean, it's just that...well, no one has ever called me beautiful before."

Dean's jaw drops and he stares at Cas.

"What, no one? Not even your mom?"

Cas amends, "She was the only one. Besides you, I guess."

Dean feels a little burst of pride at this, but it's soon swallowed by the crushing realization of why Cas thought he was worth so little.

"How're these holding up?" He says, changing the subject to Cas's still-bandaged wrists.

Cas pulls his sleeves over his hands to hide the gauze. "Fine. They're fine."

Dean sighs patiently, "Can I see?"

He had been asking this every day since it happened, and every day he had been told no.

Cas squirms a little before answering, "I guess,"

Dean's heart skips a beat, "Really?"

Cas nods and begins to pull up his sleeves.

Dean mentally preps himself; he remembers all too well what his arms looked like that night.

Cas finally finishes unwrapping the bandages and bares his arm to his former roommate.

The cuts have healed for the most part; the doctors were not able to uses stitches because the wound had been open for too long, so the gashes running down his arms had to heal on their own.

The skin around the cuts are still puffy and red, and the dead skin around the wound made the incisions look gangrenous and necrotic, but the thing that broke Dean's heart the most was his own name, carved into Cas's upper arm.

Dean reaches out to touch it, gently brushing the cuts with his fingers, careful not to cause Cas any unnecessary pain.

Cas inhales sharply at his cold touch, but allows him to ghost his thumb over the deepest wounds.

"Dammit, Cas..." Dean breathes, not trusting himself to say more.

"I know." Cas says in return, looking down ashamedly.

Dean draws back from his best friend's arm, fingers shaking with sadness, guilt and other unnamed emotions firing through his system.

"God, Cas..."

"I know. They're ugly. They're bad. They're going to be there forever. I get it."

"No, Cas, that's not what I mean at all! I was just thinking that even though you did this to yourself, even though you fucking hate who you are, you're still beautiful to me. The scars aren't, the bones sticking through your skin aren't, but you are. The fact that you can smile and laugh and talk to me, that's beautiful. You. Are. Beautiful."

Cas nods as he slowly re-wraps his arms and Dean can tell that he doesn't believe a word of it.

"Cas...can I-can I kiss you? Please?" Dean asks haltingly.

Cas looks up to face Dean, his blue eyes wide and his face in startled confusion.

"Can you do what?" He asks, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Look, Cas, I love you, okay? I really hope you love me too, because it would be really awkward if you didn't."

Cas opens mouth to say something, closing it a fraction of a second later and leaning into Dean.

 ** _Castiel_**

Their eyes lock onto each other's for a brief instant, and Cas swears time stands still. All that is real is his heartbeat pounding an arrhythmic tattoo on the inside of his ribcage, his ability to draw breath deserts him but that's okay because Dean's forest green eyes are all he needs to survive, and the burning, agonizing desire to press his lips to Dean's and kiss him like he's never been kissed before. Cas wants this so, so bad. More than anything else in the world. The only thing he wants is Dean.

So he takes him.

Cas leans forward, Dean mirroring him, their lips meet, and finally, finally, Castiel is whole.

Their lips touch softly at first, and Dean, the more experienced kisser, gently pulls at Cas's bottom lip with his own lips. Cas presses in again, more desperately this time. Their kisses grow deeper, more meaningful, and Cas can tell Dean has never kissed someone this way, this gently and lovingly and beautifully, as if he might break if Dean kissed him harder.

There were no words to illustrate the feeling he felt exploding inside him, no way to communicate the burning in his chest, the hammering of his heart and the way he thought he might burst from this whirlwind of emotion he was experiencing after years of numbness and muted colors.

All that he ever wanted was here in front of him: someone who loved him, all of him, his flaws (there were so many), his heart (broken and tear-streaked as it was), his scars (all 693), and his brokenness (which was healing with every second spent in Dean's presence).

Castiel opens his eyes, and is surprised to see Dean staring right back at him. Cas draws back slightly in surprise, but quickly leans back in, keeping his eyes open and locked onto Dean's for a moment more, relishing the way the pine forest jaded eyes sparked with desire and love. Cas closes his eyes after a moment, because some things are meant to be felt with the heart, not seen wth the eyes.

All too soon, the kiss ends and the two pull back.

"Castiel?" Dean says, his voice hoarse and husky with emotion and lust.

"Yes, Dean?" Cas responds, his voice matching Dean's I

gravelly tone. Cas tries to burn the way Dean says his full name into his mind forever.

"I love you."

Cas smiles, tears of pure joy and overwhelming exaltation pricking at his eyes. How he had dreamed, how he had prayed for someone to say that to him and actually mean it!

"I love you too, Dean."

And Cas watches, powerless to stop it, the falling of an angel.


	9. Chapter 9 - Crazy Illegal Shit

A/N:

Hey y'all, I'm back! My mother took the liberty of going through my wattpad history and was appalled at the amounts of gay smut on my feed. So I wasn't allowed to write, but now I have my school iPad and it is unregulated, so I can post! I know you've been reading other fics in the meantime, so I'll go over the main points of the story to jog your memory:

-Cas and Dean meet at college

-Dean finds out that Cas self harms

-Lots of almost admitting they loved each other

-Cas tries to kill himself, which results in Dean getting into a car wreck on the way to the hospital

-Cas almost dies in the hospital, and Crowley appears saying that if he sells his soul Dean can have ten months to live and Cas will live. Dean accepts.

-Cas discharges from hospital and gets out in a psych ward for a little while (4 weeks)

-Sometime between psych ward and discharge they get together

-Cas discharges from hospital

 ** _Castiel_**

"Welcome home!"

Castiel is greeted by half the football team and his English professor crowded into the tiny dorm.

The noise and number of people make him flinch, but he soon smiles and runs over to Dean, who grips him tight.

"Dean..." Cas murmurs his name into the crook of his neck.

Dean tightens his hold on Cas briefly before pulling him into a deep, desperate kiss.

The football players whoop and catcall at the couple, making Cas blush.

"YOOOOOOOOOO!"

"GET IT DEAN, GET IT!"

"MY GAYBIES!"

Dean pulls away, nothing but love and warmth radiating from his face.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Dean."

Mr. DeVault, the English professor, ushers the team out of the room as the two boys trail off to their rooms.

The two flop down on Cas's bed and curl up together, enjoying their moment of unsupervised time with each other. Dean rolls over to look at Cas, his green eyes shining with love.

"I love you so much, bro." Dean says, tracing Castiel's cheekbones.

"I love you too bro." Cas says, leaning into his touch.

"Bro."

"Bro."

The men giggle like children and Cas presses a kiss against his lips.

The kiss grows deeper, more passionate, their hands roaming over each other's bodies and running through their hair.

Cas's hand creeps up under Dean's T shirt and explores the smooth plains of Dean's muscled physique. Dean starts to mirror Cas; his hand slips under the hem of his shirt, feeling the bumpy scars and knobby bones of his ribcage when Cas briefly stops kissing, inhaling sharply at Dean's cool touch on his burning skin. Dean notices the small lapse and pulls his hand back.

"You okay, Cas?" He asks, his voice gravelly with desire and concern.

Cas nods halfheartedly before returning back to kiss Dean.

After a while, Deans hand creeps up Cas's shirt again, making the smaller man sit bolt upright.

"Hey, Cas, what's up?"

Cas inhales shakily and says "I just...it feels weird. You touching my scars. It feels nice, but at the same time I hate myself for it. I'm sorry."

Dean nods, his eyes wide with sadness. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready. Hell, I shouldn't have pushed you after you just came home. I'm so sorry, Cas."

Cas feels a lump form in his throat and says "Dean, no. It's not your fault. I'm just being sensitive." After a moment of thought he added, "Kiss me again. Please."

"Are you s-" Dean is cut off by a swelling kiss.

Cas interrupts the kiss to pull of his shirt, desperately trying to ignore how naked and vulnerable he feels. He has to show Dean he's better now. Because he is. Right?

Dean smiles and pulls his shirt over his head. Cas can't help but admire Dean's toned, flawless body. He looks at his own, and a sense of disappointment and self hatred rushes through him. He ignores it and presses into Dean, his fingers carding through his hair, eliciting small moans from the beautiful man.

Dean's fingers cautiously touch and stroke Cas, gently, to make sure he doesn't hurt him.

Suddenly, Cas feels like he can't breathe. He hates himself too much for Dean to see his scars and malnourished body. He pulls away and begins crying.

Dean breaks away, "Cas, buddy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice is soft and laced with sorrow. Cas is reminded just how much he loves him.

"I'm trying...I'm sorry...I know you want this, I want this, but...I can't. I'm sorry, Dean.." Castiel chokes out between sobs. "I'm sorry..."

Dean grabs Cas's shirt and pulls it over his head. Cas can see the look of pity and hurt on his face without looking at him.

"It's okay. We don't have to do this. Not until you're ready. I'll never force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. I promise. Come on. It's already 8:00, let's order some pizza."

Cas nods quietly, grateful for this blessing of a man at a God gave him.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

Cas can hear Dean from his room all the way to the bathroom. The two had turned on to the big game that Dean wasn't playing in.

Cas poked his head out of the bathroom, "Is that a happy 'holy fucking shit' or an angry 'holy fucking shit'?"

"Dude, just come in. I can't even explain this madness to you."

Cas wanders to the bed where Dean is glued to a portable TV.

Dean begins explaining to Cas the horrible calls he ref is making and how stupid the other team is, but Cas doesn't know shit about football, so he tunes out the words and listens to the way Dean's voice rumbles in his chest.

He leans his head onto the taller man's shoulder and starts dozing. Soon he feels himself being picked up and moved, like his father did when he was a child.

Cas pretends to be asleep as Dean lays him in the bed they shared, removing his shoes and jeans and pulling the blankets up to Cas's chin.

Castiel smiles involuntary as a soft kiss is placed on his forehead.

"I love you, Cas."

"Love you too." He mumbles sleepily.

He has never slept so well in his life.

 ** _Dean_**

After laying Cas down, Dean walked over to his bed in the other bedroom and pulled out a journal he kept hidden under the box spring. It was a leather bound book with crisp pages, brand new.

Dean flips to the newest page and writes,

 _Day 43_

 _Learn to love gently._

Check.

A/N I'm sorry it was such a short chapter, it's taking me awhile to get back with it. Thanks for your patience!

-Hannah


	10. Chapter 10 - Welcome Home

_Dean_

"Merry Christmas!"

Dean opens his eyes blearily and starts slightly when he sees two sparkling blue eyes filling his vision.

"Oh, yeah...Christmas...Merry Christmas, Cas," he says with a smile, leaning in for a kiss.

Cas jerks back, a smile playing on his oh so kissable lips. "No, you have to actually get up first."

Dean rolls his eyes, unable to fight the grin on his face.

Cas's eyes light up and he takes Dean's hand, happy as...well, as happy as a kid on Christmas.

The main room had lights that the two strung up a few weekends ago, and a rather scraggly looking tree was propped up in the corner, weighed down with homemade ornaments.

It was a rather pathetic attempt at decorating, but Dean felt his heart swell with happiness.

"Dean," Cas said, appearing in front of him. "I got you something!"

Dean smiles hard and accepted the poorly-wrapped parcel that Cas was presenting him.

"I hope it's a dog," Dean jokes, rattling the heavy box.

"Damnit, Dean, now you've ruined the surprise!" Cas retorts, a smile betraying his scolding.

"Well, while we're at it, I have something for you, too!" Dean says, leaning into Cas's face, just barely out of reach of his lips. "And I believe you owe me a kiss."

Cas closes the gap between them and presses his lips on Dean's, melting into the other man. Dean felt a slight twinge of sadness; in a few months he would never be able to kiss Cas like this again.

He pushes the thought away, focusing on the now. Now he had Cas, now he had Christmas, now he was okay. Okay for now.

Dean ends the kiss, and retreats to his bedroom to grab the thin, neatly wrapped present that Dean hoped Cas would like.

Dean watches as Cas unwraps his present. God, he was so beautiful. His hair was wild and unruly, and a grin was present, which is something that Dean never thought he'd see on the man. With his long-sleeved, loose-fitting pajamas, Dean could almost pretend that Cas was a normal college student who eats Ramen for every meal and whose arms aren't decorated with scars and stick-thin.

"It's a CD," Cas announces, breaking Dean out of his thoughts, "Did you make it?"

Dean nods, "Yeah, it's got a lot of songs that remind me of you on it."

Cas smiles from ear to ear and hugs Dean, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. "Now open yours," he whispers in his ear.

"Okay, angel," Dean says with a smile.

Dean tears open the gift, and grins when he sees what lays inside.

"Oh, Cas..."

Cas's smile wavers, "Do you like it?"

Oh God did he like it. It was poem, written on a photo of the two of them at the hospital. Dean didn't know who took it, but it featured a emanciated and broken Castiel, bandages wrapped thickly around each arm and several tubes jammed into the man. Next to him there was another's man-Dean-who had his head bowed and face in his hands, his face masked in grief. Dean's threat closed up, unable to breathe as the memories rushed back-a bruised and broken Cas, Crowley's smug grin, the scream of hospital equipment as Cas flatlined-but Dean pushed the thoughts away and focused on the poem:

 _As I lay_

 _battered_

 _beaten_

 _broken_

 _oh so broken, my dear_

 _I can hear the angels singing_

 _And I think they're calling your name_

 _Oh don't deceive me_

 _Don't ever leave me_

 _Leave me here alone_

 _I tolerate a world of demons_

 _For the sake of an angel_

 _And the angel is you_

 _It was always you_

 _It is forever you, forever you my love_

 _As i write_

 _breathing_

 _beating_

 _believing_

 _I hear the angels singing_

 _And they're calling your name_

 _Forever your name_

 _Forever with me_

 _Forever waiting_

 _Forever for you_

 _~Castiel_

"Castiel..." Dean manages to get the word out before throwing his arms around the smaller man, kissing his temple.

"So...do you like it?" Cas asks through Dean's hair.

"Dude, I love it. I'm framing that sucker."

Dean shot up, pulling Cas with him.

"Come on, dance with me, angel!"

Cas laughs, "With what music?"

"Do you like Elvis?"

Cas considers before nodding "I can dig Elvis."

"Great!" Dean pulls out his phone and sets it to a familiar tune,

 _"Wise men say..._

 _Only fools rush in..."_

"Do you even know how to dance?" Castiel laughs.

"Not a clue, my dear. But there's no time like the present, right?"

The two sweep around the room clumsily, laughing every time they stepped on the others toes.

 _"Like a river flows_

 _Surely to the sea..."_

"So, Cas," Dean starts, his hand resting on Cas's sharp hip bones. "Do you love me?"

Cas cocks his head, nonplussed, "Of course I love you Dean. Why do you ask?"

 _"So take my hand..."_

Dean shrugs, "I don't know. Just making sure, I guess. Would be kind of awkward if I was the only one."

"Hm. So do you love me?" Cas asks in return.

 _"Take my whole life too..."_

"I don't know. Maybe. I'd better check," Dean smiles as he presses his lips against his roommate's. "Yep, I think I love you."

 _"Because I..."_

Cas laughs, reaching his arms up and looping them around the taller man's neck.

 _"Can't...help..."_

Dean's face turns serious, and he says gently, "How're the wrists?"

Cas stiffens slightly, but answers, "They're all right."

 _"Falling in love..."_

"Do I need to check?" Dean asks with a quick glance to Cas's sleeves.

"You can later if you want, but I'd rather dance a little while longer."

 _"With...you..."_

Dean's smile returns to his lips, "So be it then."

In the light of the Christmas tree and the smell of pine in the air, Dean can feel himself falling harder and harder with every second that passed.

 _Day 61_

 _Love more than you did yesterday._

 _Check._


	11. Chapter 11 - Twist and Shout

_Dean_

Dean is sitting at his desk in his small dorm room poring over a little leather bound notebook.

In this very notebook is a bucket list of things to do before the ten months are up and Dean will lose Cas forever.

On the newest page is written,

 _Day 50_

 _Love someone in need._

Dean sighs, thoroughly depressed by the prospect. Cas was the most obvious candidate for this particular item, but Dean was having trouble imagining what else he could possibly do to show Cas he loved him. I mean, isn't selling one's soul to the king of Hell himself be enough?

 _What about Sammy?_ Dean considers.

Dean has to admit, he's been neglecting his kid brother. Maybe he should call him up today. Or even better, utilize his Christmas break and pay him a visit.

Dean felt uneasy when he thought about leaving Cas alone, but even more uneasy about bringing his boyfriend home to a strictly traditional father.

Dean jumps when he feels breath whisper in his ear, and is pleasantly surprised when he turns to see a blue eyed beauty in his face.

"Cas, dude, personal space. We've talked about this," he jokes, but leans further towards Cas to kiss him, closing the journal while his boyfriend is distracted.

Dean disengages first, "Hey, Cas-"

Cas kisses him again, cutting him off, smiling into the Winchester's lips. "Yeah?"

Dean pushes him back lightly, his voice taking on a serious tone.

"No, Cas, listen."

Cas pulls back, visibly concerned. "Are you okay? Is this about you wanting to check me? I'm clean, don't worry," he reaches for his frayed sleeves, pulling them up halfway before dean stops him.

"No, dude, you're fine. I trust you. This is about Sammy."

Cas nods, shaking his sleeves back into place. "Yeah? Is he all right? You told me he was like me...is he not doing well?"

Dean shakes his head, "No, that was years ago. He was about 13 at the time when it was worst. I just feel like I've been neglecting him; I haven't called him since the day you were admitted. I want to drive down and see him."

Cas nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, sure. Do what you need to, he's your brother. Anything for family, right?" His voice drops when he says the last bit, but he recovers. "What's holding you back?"

Dean inhales sharply, getting right to the point. "To be honest, I don't feel like I can leave you alone. I know, you're clean," he adds when he sees Cas's mouth part to interject. "but I know that you get night terrors and that you're only a few weeks clean, and I just don't feel comfortable leaving you behind. What if I left and came back to something horrible? I can't take that risk."

Cas nods slowly. "So...what are you suggesting?"

"How about you come with me? Meet the family, chew the fat, do some male bonding or whatever people do when they bring their boyfriend home."

Cas breaks into a smile, which lights up Dean's heart. "Yeah, sure! That'd be great! I'd love to meet Sam and your dad and-" Cas's face falls when he realizes. "Oh...he doesn't know about me, does he? About us..."

Dean sucks his teeth. "Yep. That's the main issue."

"Well, you want to know what I think? Fuck it. He's going to have to find out some time, and I'd rather it be on our terms, you know? What's the worst he'll do?"

Cas must have been able to see the fear on Dean's face because he quickly backtracks, "Never mind. From what you've told me, he's kind of an ass. But don't let that get in the way. I love you, and hopefully you love me-it would makes things awkward if you didn't, haha-and so we can get through this. I want to do this. I want to be more than your secret lover, Dean. I want to meet your family and be friends with your kid brother, and I want us to be real, you know?"

Dean nods, the decision settled. "How about you go and pack, and we can leave tomorrow morning?"

Cas nods back, a smile playing on his lips as he exits the room.

 **~the next morning~**

 _Castiel_

"You ready?" Dean shouts from his room, throwing on his jacket and hefting Cas's small suitcase into the scant pile of stuff they were taking with them.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Cas shouts, laughing.

"Okay, no more cartoons for you. Spongebob references are where I draw the line, my friend." Dean rolls his eyes, smiling nonetheless.

After about 30 minutes of driving, the two pull up to the Winchester's house.

Cas takes a deep breath, forcing his anxiety down. He has to appear somewhat stable for Dean's family. He pulls his sleeves down, scratching at his forearms through the fabric of his trench coat.

Dean opens the door, shouting a greeting to his brother, who was at the top of the stairs.

"Dean!" Sam flies down the stairs, throwing a bear hug at his brother.

"Shit, Sammy, you've grown like three inches!" Dean says incredulously.

"Yeah, someday I'll be taller than you!" Sam teases.

"Not gonna happen, kiddo." Dean ruffles Sam's hair.

"Hey, is this Cas?" He says, peering at the man still standing on the doorsteps.

Cas nods, unsure what do to with his hands, "Yeah. And you're the famous Sammy Winchester?" He tries to throw in a joke to break the ice.

Suddenly, everyone goes quiet as a gruff man enters the room, swaying a little.

Cas opens his mouth to greet him, but is cut off by Dean.

"Hey, Dad. Um...this is Castiel. He's...he's my boyfriend. I, ah, thought I could bring him by to meet you, and-"

"He's your _boy_ friend?" John slurs, visibly angered.

"Um, yeah. Jesus, Dad, it's only 11am. A little early to be toasted, you think?" Dean snaps back, emotion boiling to the surface.

"Shut up, kid. I didn't raise you to be a back-talker as well as a fag."

Cas watches as Dean steps back, wounded.

"Actually, Mr. Winchester-" he tries to interject, but John interrupts.

"Shut up, queer. I'm talking to my son, if I can even call him that anymore," John sneers at Cas.

Cas feels tears prick at his eyes. How could things be going so bad already?

 _It's because of you, you idiot. You always manage to fuck things up somehow._ Cas's vicious inner voice scathes. He forces it to shut the hell up, because there are currently higher priorities than his self esteem.

"You know what? Fine. I'll leave. I came down here to say hello to Sammy and to introduce the love of my life, not to ask for your permission like I'm some goddamn kid!" Dean shouts at his father, his face a spectacular shade of red.

Suddenly, things move too fast for Cas to see and the next thing he knows Dean is knocked across the room, his hand clutching his left cheek.

"I don't fucking care if he's the 'love of your life'," John shouts back, "he isn't welcome here and neither are you until you get your shit together and stop fucking around with faggots!"

Anger flares in Cas's chest, heat rushing to his face.

"Look, _John,_ " Cas hisses, eyes narrowing with hatred, "I can respect you for being the man who fathered my boyfriend, but I can't stand for you hurting him any more. We're leaving, and we won't back-"

Cas hears a dull thump and goes flying across the room, a red hot flower blossoming in his cheek.

"All you faggots better get the hell out of my house!" John roars, his intimidation slightly muted by his swaying body.

Dean flashes a look of murder at his father before helping Cas up, momentarily exposing his wrists.

"Cas..." Dean whispers as he catches sight of one of the cuts that slid into view. "Why...?"

Cas shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, mouthing _later_ at him.

The two stand to leave when Sam, almost forgotten in the chaos, clears his throat.

"Well, I guess that's me too, isn't it?" He says, plastering a watery smile on his face.

John whirled around as all three men say, "What?!"

Sam nodded, his face set in stone. "Yep. No room for fags here, better pack my bags. I'll miss you." He adds sarcastically.

Cas looks from Dean to Sam to John, confusion buzzing in his brain.

"You're gay?" Dean asks disbelievingly.

"Trust me, it's not how I wanted you to find out," Sam says bitterly.

John breaks out of his stupor and yells again, demanding every fag leave his house immediately.

"Pack your stuff, Sammy," Dean says quietly. "You can stay with me and Cas until we figure something out."

Sam's face is washed with relief, and Cas experiences a surge of love for Dean and his selflessness.

"I'm leaving, and when I get back every HIV infected, cock-sucking, scum of the earth queer better be off my property before I pump them full of lead!" John roars, storming off to his car dressed in just a dingy bathrobe and slippers.

Dean inhales and Cas watches as his face changes to big-brother mode, full protectiveness engaged.

"Okay, I don't know how long he'll be gone, so let's get your stuff, Sammy, and I'll work something out with the college dean. I'm legally an adult, so they should let you stay with me, probably not on campus though. All right?" Dean smiles warmly at his brother as he hurries up the stairs.

"Cas..." Dean turns to face his roommate with a sad expression on his freckled face.

"I know, Dean. I'm sorry. I was stressed last night, and I...I honestly don't have a good excuse. I'm sorry," Cas hangs his head, guilt and self hatred coursing through his system.

Dean nods and sighs defeatedly. "It's okay. We'll figure something out. May I ask what you did it with?"

Cas opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by Sam clunking down the stairs with his suitcase.

"Okay. I'm ready."

"That fast?" Dean asks incredulously.

"Yep. I've had it packed for a few months now, I just had to add a couple things to it." Sam's face is grim, all happiness gone.

"All right. Well, that's settled. You okay?"

Sam nods, but his tear filled eyes betray him.

"Come here," Dean opens up his arms and Sam doesn't hesitate before running into them, and Cas is sure this is only one of many times Dean had to pick up the pieces that John broke Sam into.

Cas stands there awkwardly until the two disengage, Sam managing to smile a little more.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, who's the lucky guy?" Dean asks, a smile resting on his perfect lips.

Sam blushes dark red before stuttering, "H-his name is Gabe."

Cas does a double take, "Gabriel Novak?"

"Yeah, how'd you... _shit!"_ Sam exclaims, "He's your brother?!"

Dean looks at the two of them before he busts out laughing. "Jesus fucking Christ, I don't even know what to say!"

Dean stops laughing as he realizes something, "Wait, how old is Gabe? He's Cas's older brother..."

Cas hurries to clarify before Dean can accuse his brother of pedophilia.

"Dean, Gabe is only one year older than me. I'm almost 17, I started college early. He's almost 18, and Sam is 16. It's about two years age difference, and in Kansas consent age requirement is 16 years of age when having intercourse with someone under 19. It's perfectly legal." Cas explains, hoping to settle things down.

"Jesus, Cas, who said anything about intercourse?!" Sam exclaims, his face turning beet red. "He's just my boyfriend. Plus, I'm ace, so that kinda rules that kind of thing out."

"Asexual, meaning no feelings of sexual attraction," Cas clarifies for Dean, who looks thoroughly confused.

"And how did you know all that about consent laws?" Dean sputters out.

"I knew Gabe was seeing someone younger than him, but he wouldn't tell me who. I just researched for him so he wouldn't get in trouble should he choose to have relations with his partner." Cas says. "Everything is all right, Dean."

Dean is quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. He gives up, clapping his hands together and says, "Hey, how about we go out and have some pie? I would kill for a slice of apple pie, how about you guys?"

Sam nods enthusiastically along with Cas, the latter's stomach twisting at the thought of eating.

The three suddenly fall quiet when they hear John's car rumble in the driveway.

"Shit, guys, let's go!" Sam yelps, grabbing his suitcase and flying into the backseat. The car squeals out of the driveway and back to safety.

 _Day 50_

 _Love someone in need._

Check.


	12. Chapter 12 - I Will Follow You

_Samuel_

"Cas, come here."

The youngest Winchester calls for Castiel, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him. Dean and Cas managed to scrape up enough money for a used X-Box to make Sam's Christmas less crappy. Sam, of course, loved it.

The Novak sits down heavily on the mattress that Sam used as a bed. The college Dean allowed Sam to stay on campus, provided Dean paid for an extra person. Sam helped out when he could; he and Gabe found a job at a candy store in the mall.

The two talk over the Minecraft game that Sam was playing, neither knowing much about video games but thoroughly enjoying themselves. Sam decided he likes Cas a lot.

"Hey...Cas..um..." Sam says unsteadily, unsure of what he was going to say, or how to say it.

Sam can see Cas begin to inflate with anxiety, so he hurries to complete his thought.

"It's nothing huge, but Dean...he asked me to talk to you. He said he wasn't very good with the kind of thing we went through, so he thinks that maybe I'll do a better job of talking to his boyfriend than he would." Sam snorts, rolling his eyes at the typical obtuseness of his brother.

Cas nods slowly, turning to face the younger boy. He plasters a smile on his face that Sam can tell is fake.

"Well, I'm not sure what he wanted me to do, but he just told me to tell you that if you can't talk to him for any reason, then you can always talk to me. Sometimes the boyfriend dynamic gets in the way of friendship, so I just want you to know I'm here. If you and Dean get in a fight, or you can't talk to him about something, I'm here. So...we good?"

Cas nods again. "I think so. Thanks, Sam." He smiles warmly, and Sam is happy to think he did something right for once.

 _Castiel_

Cas really loved Dean's room.

There was next to nothing on the walls, and very little clutter, but on his desk there was a photo of the two of them sharing a kiss in front of the university gates. A very unhappy Sam had to take that picture; the boy was typically not one for sappy photo shoots. Neither was Dean, apparently, but that picture says differently.

There was also a curious little leather bound notebook that was wedged between the mattress and box spring.

Cas found it interesting that Dean would be the kind to journal, so he plucked up the journal and began to read it. Dean wouldn't mind, he was sure; they shared everything.

 _300 Day Bucket List_

That's odd. Cas never took Dean for the type to have a bucket list, of all things. And 300 days is about ten months...what happens in ten months?

 _Day One - Save a life. ✔️_

 _Day Two - Kiss someone new. ✔️_

 _Day Three - Take a risk. ✔️_

As Cas reads, he's struck by a odd sense of déjà vu. Hadn't Dean done all this with him?

He flips forward a few pages.

 _Day 33 - Feel deeply. ✔️_

 _Day 34 - Give something up. ✔️_

Cas starts feeling a bit uneasy. This sounded an awful lot like a countdown. _To what, is the question..._ Cas wonders.

The last completed entry was for _Day 61_ , which was _Make a memory._ Just yesterday they had gone to the ice rink and taken heck tons of pictures. For posterity, Dean said. Cas remembers feeling grateful for the cold to hide the rush of blood to his face when Dean winked at him after making that remark.

Cas goes to close the book when he sees a slip of white paper packed tightly between the pages. With a sense of unease, he pulls it out, the paper crinkling in protest.

 _Dear Castiel,_ it read,

 _First things first: I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Never forget that, my darling, never._

 _Second: everything I have done since the moment I met you has been out of love. Everything. Even this._

 _When you were in the hospital after you tried to kill yourself, I was so alone. So very scared and alone. But then someone gave me hope._

 _Someone named Crowley told me that he could fix you if I gave him something of mine. I gave it to him, and he fixed you._

 _I saw you, Cas, all wired in and barely breathing and it broke my heart. I was there when you flatlined, and I watched you die. But Crowley fixed you. And I had to give him what I gave him for you to live._

 _I am dying, Cas. As I write this, I can feel my cells decaying, I can feel my life leaving me. I have ten months, and that's it. So here's a 300 day bucket list to right all the wrongs I have done in my life. When you read this, I will be gone. But you won't be._

 _And the most important thing, Castiel, is-_

"Cas. What are you..."

Cas's head snaps up in time to see a look of horror cross his boyfriend's face as he realizes what he's doing.

Dean crosses the room in three strides and snatches the journal and paper, tearing the latter.

"Oh, Cas, how far did you read? You weren't supposed to see that..." Dean says, panic in his features.

Now Cas is angry. "Supposed to see what, Dean, your fucking suicide note?!"

Dean runs his free hand through his hair, tears glistening in his eyes. "It's not a suicide note, Cas, it's...it's an explanation."

"An explanation for what, exactly? What did you give to Crowley, Dean?"

Dean buries his face in his hands, sobs wracking his muscular shoulders. Cas felt no pity for him, though. Not after he had done the thing that he had fought so hard to keep Cas from doing.

Dean whispers something, too soft for Cas to hear.

"What? What did you give him, Dean?"

Dean looks up, tears reddening his eyes. "My soul...I gave him my soul, Cas."

Castiel is stunned, not expecting that answer. "You gave him your...soul? What the hell does that mean?"

"Crowley is the King of Hell. He said in exchange for your life, I give my soul. And I agreed."

Cas opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, unable to form intelligible words. "What the _fuck_ does that mean? You can't just give your soul to whatever asshat asks for it, it's physically impossible, and this is assuming that souls even exist."

Dean looked at Cas with pleading eyes, torment twisting his features. "You don't understand, Cas. You weren't there. He touched me on the forehead and then we were instantly in your room, like teleportation, I swear. He snapped his fingers when I declined the offer, and you started to die. When you flatlined, that was Crowley. I accepted, and you stabilized."

Cas scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Dean, I don't know what kind of acid trip you're on, but that did not happen. I was dying because I tried to kill myself, and dying is a normal thing that a body does when you sever the radial artery. And if you're telling the truth, who the hell said I wanted to be saved? I slit my wrists for a reason, Dean, and not a day goes by that I don't regret you finding me."

Dean is silent as sobs wrack his body, and Cas feels a bit of guilt niggling at him, but pushes it away.

"You don't...you don't mean that Cas...what about me? What about us? Do you regret that, too?"

Cas glares at Dean. "Sometimes I do. Why do you think I tried to kill myself? I'm no good for you, and I'm not worth it. No one is worth the shit we've been through."

Dean looks into Cas's eyes, and the dark haired man can feel the emotions catching up with him.

"Please, Cas...don't say that. Please don't say that. You are worth it. You are worth everything in the world."

Cas snorts, tears burning at the back of his eyes. "Who are you to decide? Who the hell gets to decide what someone is worth?"

Dean scoffs, "No one. Not you, for sure. Not me either, but I am the one to decide if I want you. I want you. I love you. I want you, all of you, every side. Why the hell would I sell my soul to the King of Hell? I don't do it for kicks. I did it for you. Everything I've done since the day I met you has been for you. You know that."

"This is too far, Dean. You've crossed the line. How am I supposed to live with this? How am I supposed to be okay with the fact I've sentenced the man I love to eternal torture just because I'm a fucked up mess who made a mistake? I wish I had died, Dean. I wish I never met you."

Dean's face is contorted with grief, his apple green eyes shining with tears. "Cas...you can't possibly mean that, not-"

"Who the FUCK gets to decide what I mean?! I wish I had never run into you outside this dorm, I wish I would have died that night, I wish I would have died when I was 13 when I first attempted, I wish you had never had the misfortune of getting attached to me!" Castiel yells, shaking with rage. He infuriated by the fact that he had fucked up this bad. Anger is a secondary emotion but it was all he could feel now.

Sammy poked his head in the door, fear crossing his face when he sees the two arguing. "Are you guys oka-"

"Not now, Sam. Get out. Go to the library, I'll come get you when this is smoothed over." Dean tells his brother.

Cas scoffs, shaking his head. "This is never going to be 'smoothed over'. I never want to see you again, Dean. Live your ten months with someone who deserves you. We're done."

Dean's is stricken by shock, his color drained from his face as his eyes glaze over. "Cas..."

"No, Dean. We. Are. Over. I'm packing my things tomorrow, and I'm going to go to a different college. I was offered a scholarship there, and I'm sure they'll accept me." Cas says coldly, his face set in stone.

The love of Dean's life walks out the door without a glance back.


	13. Chapter 13 - Long Goodbyes

**A/N: sorry guys, I posted chapter 14 before chapter 13 xD so sorry, enjoy!**

 _Castiel_

~ **several** **months** **later** ~

Graduating from college seems like a great idea until you realize you don't know how to be an adult.

Castiel stares at his diploma. He had worked hard to get it; he completed high school a year early and managed to complete his first year of college in the summer after he graduated, and now here it was. A sheet of paper with his name in fancy letters.

He could do a lot of things now that he had this paper, but somehow it didn't seem as substantial as he once dreamed. The hollow, empty feeling that he felt so often threatened to consume him.

He glances at the calendar. June 8th, 2017. Two months until the little red X on the calendar means something. Cas tries to push it out of his head; he and Dean were done. He had messed up bad, but Dean crossed a line that there was no going back from. Cas buries his head in his hands, inhaling shakily. The last few months have been really hard on him, his depression was back in full force. Only one thing kept it at bay, and Cas had pushed him away.

"You should really call him, you know." Cas's head snaps up, his features relaxing when he saw his friend Meg at the door of his apartment. The two had tried to date, but they both knew who had Castiel's heart. They managed to stay friends, but Cas always knew she was still pining after him.

"You've told me that almost every day this week," Cas says, his face back into his palms. "Not going to do it, Meg. It's been too long. What if he has a girlfriend? What if he doesn't want to see me?"

Meg scoffs, rolling her eyes. "What if, what if, what if. If he has a girlfriend, she can suck it. If he doesn't want to see you, then you can say you tried."

Cas smiles despite himself. "Meg, you make it sound so easy..."

Meg sits down on the bed beside him, slightly too close for it to be platonic, but Cas decides to chalk it up to her trying to be comforting.

"Cas...I know you love him. That's why we didn't work out. You honestly expect me to believe that you don't care about him anymore? He's got two months left, Cas. Go see him. If you don't, you'll hate yourself forever. I'll house-sit for you, I'll make sure your cats get enough food, and I'll pick up the mail and shit. You have no good reason not to go."

Cas runs his hands through his hair, inhaling through his nose. "You're right. I have no good excuse. I'll plan on going soon."

Meg exhales sharply in exasperation, "That's what you say every time. I'll help you pack tonight, and I'll drive you to the airport. Massachusetts to Kansas is what, 3 hours away? Plenty of time to plan what you want to say."

Cas snorts lightly, a bitter smile on his face, "I've been planning what I want to say to him for half a year." Meg grins, flashing him a thumbs up as she exited his room.

Cas shakes his head. _What have I gotten myself into..._

 _Dean_

For the third time this week, Dean Winchester was slam-dunk drunk and covered in women. Through blurred vision, he could see all three women start to get dressed.

"Shit, is it morning already?" Dean slurs, standing and swaying.

"Sure is, sunshine." One of the prostitutes said sweetly, carrying a thick southern drawl.

"The money is on my dresser...g'bye...Rachel, was it?"

The southern girl's mouth twitches in annoyance. "It's Sarah. Rachel came two days ago."

Dean nods, a headache setting in his temples. "Sorry...it's too early for this shit..."

One of the women, a short, busty brunette rolls her eyes and mimes slashing her wrists in annoyance.

"Hey!" Dean barks, his head clearing enough for his heart to clench in sadness. "Don't...don't do that...please..."

The brunette-Amelia, was it?-seems surprised, but apologizes, slipping on her leather jacket and pocketing the hundred dollar bill on the dresser.

Whatever high Dean was feeling from the sex and alcohol was gone, only a burning despair left eating away at him. For the millionth time he curses himself for the stupidity of his past self. Dean lies back down, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and then running his hands through his mussed hair. God, what he wouldn't give for a do-over.

"Hey, Dean, there's someone at the door for you."

Dean hears the third prostitue call for him from the kitchen.

"Jesus, it's 11:00 in the morning, who the hell..." Dean freezes when he sees a familiar face standing nervously in the doorway, clutching the cuffs of his jacket and tilting his head in a way that knocks the breath out of Dean.

"Hi." Castiel says, the tension so thick you could cut it.

Dean's mouth opens and closes like a fish, searching fruitlessly for something to say.

Cas clears his throat nervously, and gestures with a nod of his head to the escort standing next to Dean. "Um...is this your...girl..friend..?"

Dean's face flushes red as the girl with dyed blonde hair laughs teasingly.

"Oh honey, this man couldn't afford me. I work for the escort company on 62nd Street. I only see Dean every few weeks."

Cas's face reddens, and Dean can tell he's holding back tears.

"Oh this is getting really awkward, I think I'll see myself out...same time next week, Dean?" The prostitute says on her way out the door.

"Actually, no, Veronica...I don't think I'll be able to..." Dean says slowly, his eyes never leaving Cas.

"It's Judy, but whatever. And maybe if you learn our names we'll do something extra for you next time," Judy says with a sexy smile.

"Can you just shut the hell up and leave? This is a really bad time for this. Fuck off, whatever your name is." Dean snaps, his heart twisting in his chest when he sees Cas look down at the ground, clutching his sleeve cuffs tightly-be it out of habit or because he hurt himself again, Dean didn't know. Judy looks annoyed, but leaves.

"I'm so sorry about that Cas, I-" Dean tries to say, but Cas cuts him off.

"Dean. Stop."

Dean runs his hands through his sex hair and exhales. "What are you doing here?"

Cas narrows his eyes at his ex. "Oh I'm just paying a friendly visit, I was just passing though and decided to fly three hours out of my way to see an old friend, who, may I add, is shitfaced and smells like a whorehouse." His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and every syllable hits Dean like a bullet to the heart.

"Cas..." Dean protests weakly, swaying slightly.

"I don't know what I came here to do, but there was no way, in all the scenes that have played out in my head, that it would be like this."

"Cas, please..."

"Don't call me that. My name is Castiel and only my boyfriend gets to call me Cas. Funny thing is that I don't have one anymore." Cas seethes, lightening sparking in his stormy eyes.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking through his lashes and dripping off his nose as he hung his head.

"I'm sorry, Ca-Castiel...please, just hear me out, buddy.."

Cas runs his hands through his dark hair, clenching his fists. "There's nothing to hear out, Dean. I walked out on you because I made a mistake and you made a bigger one. Now you're heartbroken and you deal with it by getting toasted and sleeping with half the town. Am I wrong?"

Dean's shoulders shake as he quietly sobs. He had fucked up. He fucked up so bad.

"I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry Castiel. I loved you. I still do." Dean looks up in time to see Cas grab his face and kiss him desperately, their hands entangled in each other's hair, the kisses so longing and passionate that Dean's heart felt as if it would burst. When Castiel detached, Dean is left breathless and speechless.

"So...does this mean...?" Dean says slowly, unsure.

"It means I forgive you. I'm still angry and hurt, don't get me wrong, but I forgive you. We all make mistakes of different magnitudes, but what are we if not in love?" Castiel smiles, tears glistening in his sapphire irises.

"Oh Castiel..." Dean says, grateful behind belief.

"You don't have to call me that if you don't want to. I'd prefer it if you didn't, actually." Cas says warmly.

"O..okay..." Dean says, his heart so happy that it hurt.

"So...where do you want to go?" Cas asks.

"Anywhere but here," Dean says, "let me get dressed and I'll take you out to eat. Are you...are you still having trouble with that?" He adds quietly.

Cas inhales, his ears burning with embarrassment. "Kind of...I went to an eating disorder clinic while I was away and it's sort of better. I'll eat with you though. How does Dairy Queen sound?"

Dean smiled, "Anything for you, angel."

"Dean...we're still going to have to talk about this, okay?" Cas presses, slight desperation in his voice.

"I know, Cas, I know. Can we discuss it over some ice cream, though? I really missed you."

"Me too, Dean. Me too."


	14. Chapter 14 - Gabriel

_Castiel_  
Cas stares at his McFlurry, thoroughly uninterested in his food. It's not that he was still having trouble eating (although he was), it's just that he was sick to his stomach about the man sitting across from him.

"You gonna eat that or just give it el ojo?" Dean asks him jokingly, trying to lighten the somber mood.

Cas looks up, a smile turning the corners of his mouth up. "Where'd you learn that phrase? 'El ojo'? That's Spanish for 'the evil eye'"

"Eh, I took up a Spanish course so I could translate everything you've called me earlier this year." Dean said with a shrug, smiling.

Cas turns bright red, remembering the suggestive things he told Dean as a joke in Spanish, knowing the man wouldn't understand.

"For example, did you know 'Te ves bien de rodillas' means 'you look good on your kn-"

"Check please!" Cas frantically waves down a waiter while Dean cracks up.

"So..."

"So." Cas echos Dean as they both sit in the Impala.

Dean laughs nervously, running his hands through his hair. Cas notices that it's gotten much longer.

"I don't even know where to start. I didn't even think I'd get this far."

Cas exhales, unaware that he had been holding his breath. "Well, I guess we can start with an apology on my part."

"Cas, you have nothing to-"

"Yes, I do, Dean," Cas interrupts, "God, I was so stupid. I had the world in front of me and I chose to throw it away. I'm still not 100% better, but I'm well enough to know I made a gargantuan mistake. And the way I treated you when we broke up...it was really out of line. I'm sorry."

Dean nods, digesting his boyfriend's words. "I don't think it was out of line. I did something incredibly stupid and dangerous and unnecessary and I deserved everything you said to me. I'm sorry. I would do it again, though. The only thing I regret is how much I hurt you."

Cas stares at a spot on the dashboard, his mind a cacophony of thoughts and questions. One part of him was elated that he was back with Dean, the other part of him was still furious and hurt that Dean had done this to save him. To save him, of all people. The broken and useless creature that was Castiel.

"I accept your apology. It's not okay, what we both did, but forgiving each other means that we let go of the weight in our shoulders. We don't have that kind of power over each other once we forgive. I am sorry, and I know you are too. I love you, and I know we can make it through." Cas says, sliding his hand across the seat and squeezing Dean's. Dean breathes a sigh of relief.

"Okay. That's good. I'm really glad. I forgive you too, Cas." Cas smiles at him and reaches over to kiss him.

"I'm glad too. I'm going to go to Manhattan and get my stuff. I actually managed to get my associates already, so I'll go back to school next year and try for a bachelors. I didn't really tell my family I left, so I should come back anyway. Are we okay?"

Dean laughs softly, "Yeah Cas, I think we're okay."

~ **two** **weeks** **later** ~

 _Samuel_

"Cas!" Castiel is greeted by Dean's not-so-little little brother, a smile stretched across his features.

"Jesus, Sam, you've grown like 3 inches, what the hell," Cas laughs, pulling the youngest Winchester into a hug.

"Castiel."

Cas freezes, his eyes travelling upwards to see his older brother Gabriel staring at him.

"Oh...hi, Gabriel. Um..." Cas falters, his ears burning in shame when he saw the look on his face.

"Where the _hell_ were you, Castiel?" Gabe barks, anger seeping out of his pores. "The last time I heard from you was almost nine months ago and you were in a fucking hospital half-dead and I was worried sick about you! I would have gone to see you if I wasn't balls deep in family stuff!

"Did it occur to you, at all, to call us, to text us, to let us know you weren't on the side of the road somewhere bleeding out? I covered for you for a while, I know how you hate us getting involved in your life, but eventually I broke down and told Mom and Dad that I had no earthly clue where you were. Anna wouldn't stop asking about you, Michael lost his job because he was trying to find you, and Raphael just took off and told us that he didn't want to witness the family fall apart again. Hell, when Luci caught wind of this, he actually came over to the house to help us find you. Of course, that didn't go well, but you need to fucking understand that when you do this kind of shit, _it doesn't just affect you_. It kills all of us. We thought you were dead, Castiel."

Cas looked so small, so broken now. His eyes were downcast and glistening and he clutched his coat cuffs as if they were the one thing grounding him.

"I'm sorry." Cas whispers.

Gabe snorts, "You're sorry. That's all you have for me? Not 'gee, Gabe, I feel terrible about taking off like that', not 'I understand how much this kills you, let me put it right', just _sorry_?!"

Dean cuts in, "Look, Gabe, he's sorry. He never meant for this to happen. It's all my fault. We got into a fight and he took off. I thought you guys knew, and I'm sorry. Any way that we can make up to you, we'll do it."

Sam felt terrible. All those times that Gabe was over and asked him about Cas, he lied. He lied to his boyfriend to keep his brother safe. God, did he screw up.

"And you!" Gabe whirls on Sam, as if reading his mind, "You lied to me! Every fucking day, I asked you if you knew where my brother was, and every day you said you didn't know. That's kind of a deal breaker for me."

Sam inhaled sharply, his stomach clenching when he realized the implications of Gabe's last sentence. "Are we...?"

"I don't know what we are yet. I'm too angry to think straight. Cas, you're coming home with me and you're explaining yourself." Gabe snaps, his eyes looking more tired than they ever have.

"Gabe-" Dean protested.

"No, Dean. It's fine. Gabriel is right. I need to fix this. I'll see you later, Dean. I love you, okay?" Cas says quietly, briefly touching Dean's hand as Gabe escorted him out of the dorm.

"I love you too..." Dean says to himself as he watches Gabe angrily open the door for his younger brother.

Sam comes to stand next to Dean."Do you ever think things will be okay again?"

"I don't know, Sammy. I hope so." Dean says, his voice shaking.

"I hope so too." Sam says, leaning into his brother to feel his warmth and to ground himself. That was one thing he always loved about Dean. He was strong, solid, and loved him more than anything. He watches Gabe and Cas speed off into the night, never knowing if he would see his boyfriend again.

Sam didn't know what a truly broken heart felt like until then.


	15. Chapter 15 - What Now?

_Chuck Novak_

"I told you, Chuck, and you didn't listen!" Mrs. Novak hisses through her teeth at her husband. "I told you he wasn't ready to be left alone to his own devices, I told you that he should stay at home and go to school during the day and come back at night!"

"Becky, he's a grown man for God's sake! Excuse me for thinking that an 18 year old man can handle himself." Mr. Novack says sarcastically.

"That's the thing, he is grown, but you know he's different, you know what he struggles with and he obviously wasn't ready for this!"

"I'm sorry! I thought he could do this. I thought that he could beat this, and when I heard about Dean I was ecstatic because I thought he could help Castiel. I don't know what you want me to do." Mr. Novak says defeatedly.

"I want you to go up there and make him sure that he is loved." Mrs. Novak says, her eyes pleading with her husband.

"How in the hell do I do that?!" Mr. Novak says frustratedly.

"You'll figure something out, Chuck, you always do. Now go."

Mr. Novak sighs and begins to climb up the stairs to his son's bedroom.

He stops by his door, bringing his hand up hesitantly and knocking on the door with his first two knuckles.

"Hey, Castiel..." Mr. Novak falters, "Can I...can I come in? Please?"

Silence for a moment, then Mr. Novak rejoices when he hears footsteps crossing the room.

The door cracks open to reveal a emotionless face, and his dad's stomach clenches in worry when he sees the lack of feeling. Castiel has a habit of shutting down emotionally when he is stressed, but Mr. Novak thought he had long outgrew it.

"What do you want, Dad?" Cas says in a monotone, confirming his father's suspicions.

"I just...can I come in?" He asks again.

Cas doesn't say a word, but he walks back into his room and sits on the bed, leaving the door open for his father to come in.

Mr. Novak sits next to his son, wracking his brain for words.

"I just want to say, Castiel, that...I'm proud of you, oaky?"

Castiel looks up, slightly puzzled, "You're proud of me for running away like a coward?"

"No, not about that," he says, "I meant I'm proud of who you are. What you've become. What you managed to survive going through. I was really hesitant to let you go to college and stay in a dorm away from home, and it looks like it was completely justified, but I know I can't change your mind. You're 18 years old, Castiel. You're not that tiny baby that I held so many years ago. You've got a life, and a boyfriend that loves you, and a family who loves you too. You've gotten a degree, you've built your life out of the shambles given to you, and on top of that, you did it all while battling a mental war."

Cas nods slowly, processing. "Thank you."

Mr. Novak refrains from sighing, he could obviously tell Cas wasn't computing it properly. He hopes when he leaves his son will go back to it and know he was being sincere.

"Okay, I'll leave you alone now. I love you, okay?" Mr. Novak says.

"Okay. I love you too Dad." Cas says robotically, staring straight ahead at his wallpaper.

His dad gets up and leaves, careful to latch the door on his way out. He knew Cas liked his privacy, and he had checked the room for razors before Cas came home.

 _Castiel_

It was so much easier not to feel.

Shutting down and becoming an emotionless robot was quite appealing to him, but he had that nagging voice of common sense yelling at him to wake up and call Dean, to let him know he's okay.

Slowly Cas stands up, his joints popping in protest. He pulls out his phone and sends a text to Dean,

 _Hey Dean, just wanted to let you know I'm all right. I'll see if I can swing by later to see you guys. I love you, okay?_

Cas sighs and buries his face in his hands. God, when would he ever stop fucking things up? He should have told someone where he was going, it wasn't fair that Sam had to lie to his boyfriend to keep his brother's boyfriend safe, he should never have hesitated when he slit his wrists that night. Maybe if he had died that night things would be better now, Dean wouldn't have to go to Hell for eternity, he would be out of his misery, and all would be well. Dean would get over him. Sam would get over him. Gabriel would too, and so would his siblings. His parents? It might be hard on them, but he would be forgotten eventually.

 _Why didn't I cut deeper? I'm such a coward..._


	16. Chapter 16 - Together Again

_Castiel_

Castiel jiggles the doorknob, cursing under his breath as the lock sticks. He hears a loud crash, and briefly steps back as the door opens and a familiar form throws itself at him, engulfing him in the scent of Dean and the body of Dean and the laugh of Dean and Dean-

"Hey!" Cas chuckles as he buries his face into his boyfriend's AC/DC shirt, inhaling deeply.

The two stay locked together, each squeezing the other as if they wouldn't see each other ever again.

 _That's gonna be true in a few weeks...  
_  
Cas pushes the thought out of his mind. Dean was here, in his arms, where he belongs, and that's all that matters right now.

Cas breaks the hug, pulling back and kissing Dean lightly before smiling and saying,

"What was that crash I heard?"

Dean darkens a few shades, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck, "I ran into the doorframe trying to open the door for you."

Cas smiles warmly, ducking his head and smiling at the floor in a way that sends a rush of affection and adoration through Dean. "God, Dean, you're so goddamn cute!"

Dean gives a breathy laugh before scooping up the smaller man (Dean wants to believe that he wasn't as dangerously light as before) and tossing him on the bed, throwing himself down on top of him, his face inches from those beautiful blue eyes.

"I love you." Dean says seriously, kissing the tip of his boyfriend's nose, earning a shy smile from him.

"Are you sure?" Cas asks teasingly.

"Well, I'm 79% sure, but I could check," Dean breathes, cutting of Cas's reply with a light kiss, deepening the kiss after a few seconds.

Cas kisses back, desperation in his actions as he presses himself as close to Dean as humanly possible. Dean slips his hand hesitantly beneath the hem of his shirt, waiting for permission. Cas nods breathlessly, breaking the kiss for a moment but submerging himself in Dean's lips once more. Dean's hand runs up Cas's scarred stomach and chest, hungrily exploring the new terrain. Cas leans into the touch; for once he wasn't ashamed of his body.

Clothing is pulled off, one article at a time, the two savoring the taste of each other, neither in any rush to experience the other.

Dean breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he looks hard into Cas's eyes.

"Cas...are you sure?" He asks, concern in his eyes.

Cas nods vigorously, God did he want Dean. He was slightly nervous, sure, seeing as he hasn't ever been with anyone, but he wouldn't want anyone else to be his first.

"Yes. I'm sure. I love you, right?" Cas says breathlessly.

"Yeah, I know, but there's more to love than-well, never mind, you know already," Dean barely gets the phrase out before Cas meshes their mouths together again.

Sex is too crude a word to describe what happened next. Love was made; pure, wholesome love. Cas never knew how wonderful it was to fit so perfectly with someone, the warm feeling of belonging to something bigger than himself, the way he felt that night was better than any temporary high that the razor brought him, so much more satisfying and happy than losing anouther pound. He felt complete. Safe. Loved. And he wanted to feel that way forever and ever.

***

"You're so beautiful, Cas," Dean says, lazily tracing hearts on his boyrfriends scarred stomach.

Cas snorts, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, says the guy who's touching my scars."

He immediately regrets his words and Dean's hand draws back, the warmth from his hand suddenly gone.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine Cas. I should have known it would bother you, sorry." Dean says quietly, moving his hand to safer territory.

"No!" Cas blurts, much louder than intended. "No, it doesn't bother me. I was just...I don't know. It's easier to be sarcastic and bitter than admitting that I'm not as awful as I think I am."

Dean nods, keeping his hand well away from any scarred surface, which makes Cas's heart ache. He grips Dean's hand tight, and puts it back on his chest, over his heart.

"Hey, Dean..." Cas begins, not sure how to phrase his next sentence.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean replies, moving onto his side and propping himself up with an elbow.

"I was thinking...I mean, I thought of what you were doing, the whole bucket list thing, and I kinda want to try it myself."

Dean's face freezes, and Cas is alarmed, unsure of what he did wrong.

"What?" Cas asks.

"Well, Cas, I mean...the bucket list was a list of things I want to do before I...die...I don't know how I feel about you having a bucket list like mine..." Dean says haltingly, his grip tightening reassuringly over Cas's.

Cas nods, suddenly realizing, "Oh crap, Dean, that's not how I meant it at all. I'm not making a bucket list because I'm going to die (well, anytime soon), I'm making it because, well...you know why."

Dean nods again, stroking Cas's hand with his thumb. Cas relishes the way his calloused fingertips scratch against his smooth skin, sending electricity up his spine.

"I really don't want you to go..." Cas whispers, his eyes shining with tears he vowed not to shed.

Dean moves his face closer to Cas's, and his breath tickles the other man's throat. "I don't want to go." His voice is rough and quiet, full of shame and wistfulness and utter sadness.

Cas turns around onto his side and pushes himself closer to Dean so that they're spooning.

Only then, when his face is hidden from Dean's, does he allow himself to cry. 


	17. Chapter 17 - Dragon Sex

**A/N:**

 **I'm back, bitches!**

 **I will be online for the next while, and I have lots of updates for you! This may seem fluffy and funny at first, but angst doesn't take vacations. Enjoy at your own risk!**

 **-Hannah**

***

 _Samuel_

Sam and Dean were both enjoying some quality brother time. Dean had bought his brother the game Overwatch for his birthday and were playing it now, trash talking each other and gloating the whole time.

"Hey guys, I'm going to get some food, any requests?" Cas calls from the doorway, keys in hand.

"Chinese!"

"Pizza!"

The two brothers shouted at once, and Cas shook his head. "Looks like we're having burgers again, folks."

Sam nods absently, more focused on the game.

"Dammit, Sam, why do you always main as Bastion? You get play of every goddamn game just for holding left trigger for 30 seconds." Dean grumbles.

Sam makes a slurping sound and lets out a satisfied "aahhh!"

"You hear that? That's the sound of me drinking your fucking _tears_!" Sam shouts.

"Language, Sammy," Dean says sternly, his big brother mode switching on.

The two play for a while, and Sam can tell Dean has something on his mind, seeing as he was taken out by D. Va outside of her battle mech.

"So, like, how the hell are you asexual?" He asks, not taking his eyes off the screen. "I mean, how do you not feel sexual attraction? Isn't that the only thing 15-year-old boys feel?"

The corner of Sam's mouth twitches in annoyance; the only thing worse than that question was "so you're basically a plant, right?" He replies nonchalantly, "I don't know dude, I just don't. I'm just generally more excited about dragons," he joked.

Dean's head snaps around to face his little brother. "You want to have sex with a dragon?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it. Oh, BOOM, hell yes! It's high noon bitches!" Sam yells, taking advantage of Dean's momentary distraction to take out his brother's character with McCree's ultimate.

"Dude, what the fu-" Dean yells, throwing down his controller.

"Language, Dean." Sam chides, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"You better wipe that smug-ass grin off your face before I-"

"Before you what, Dean?" Sam interrupts again. "Before you nail Cas on my side of the bed again? Because I'm actually genuinely scared about that."

Sam cackles as Dean's face turns red and he splutters in embarrassment.

"The walls are really thin, Dean, I hope you know that."

The front door latches, and Dean scrambles up to meet his boyfriend.

Sam chuckles to himself. It was fun seeing his bold, strong, manly brother crumble when Cas was brought up. He realized he was that way with Gabriel, which was kind of obnoxious since Gabe never took anything seriously and his joking, bantering façade never cracked. It was kind of exhausting, really. Sometimes he just wanted to be serious. He wanted to be able to talk to him about heavy stuff without getting frustrated at his boyfriend's inability to find his chill and just _listen_.

He was _always_ joking and screwing around and being obtuse on purpose and it pissed him the hell off. Sometimes he'd just kiss Sam to get him to shut up when he brought something serious up, or just say "I love you" like it was nothing. He was on the verge of breaking up with him when his dachshund died and Gabe immediately made a "wiener" joke instead of helping him cope with the fact that his dog had just died.

The most infuriating part was that Sam knew Gabe was capable of love and kindness and sensitivity. He saw it all the time with Castiel; the guy was so gentle and tender with his brother, why the hell can't he be that way with his goddamn _boyfriend_?

"Yo, Sam, dinner's ready." Dean interrupted his thoughts, sticking his head into his room. "Gabe's gonna swing by too, so you better go put on your makeup or something and look presentable."

Sam sighs. More and more, over the weeks, he found himself increasingly less happy at the prospect of seeing his boyfriend. He didn't want to, but he thinks maybe it's over for them. Maybe he'll find someone who loves him enough to listen to him.

"YOOOO, SAM MY DUDE, WHAT IS UUUPPPPPPPP?!" Gabe swings into the room, yanking Sam into a standing position and looking up at him, gripping his forearms tightly.

"Actually, Gabe, I need to-"

Gabe cuts him off with a deep, almost violent kiss, then starts talking a mile a minute. "Oh man, you would not be-LIEVE the day I had, I gotta tell you all about it. First off, there was this dog on the street, okay? And then..."

Sam tunes his boyfriend out after a few sentences, something that he's been doing more often than not. He used to find Gabe's ramblings cute and quirky, but now they were starting to become irritating and just too much.

Sam caught the word "sex" in Gabe's monologue, and started listening real good.

"...I mean, my last boyfriend, he was wild, but not like that! Speaking of which, Sammy, when are we gonna get down to business? I know you're 'asexual' or whatever, but come on! We've been dating almost a year, you still telling me you don't want this?" Gabe gestures to himself, raising an eyebrow.

Sam's heart sinks. For some reason, Gabe has never completely gotten the concept that Sam doesn't want sex. Ever. If he were straight, he'd do it for a girl so that they could have kids. But a guy? There's no reason that he can think of to stick one of his organs into the most disgusting body cavity in the human body.

Sam inhales, preparing to give Gabe the same explanation he gave him every single time.

"Gabe, no. I've told you over and over, I don't want to. I don't feel sexually attracted to you, I don't feel sexual attraction at all, and I don't want to have sex. Ever. With you or anyone else."

Gabe squints at Sam in a way that makes him slightly uneasy.

"What, you're saying you don't love me?"

Sam inhales sharply, already losing control of the situation.

"No, Gabe, I love you a lot. I love you more than anything. I just don't want to have sex with you. Or anyone. I can still love you with my heart, I don't need my dick's opinion on this one." Sam says softly.

Gabe nods, clearly not believing him. "Whatever Sam. I waited for you for a while, waiting for you to get over that, but I'm kind of tired of waiting. I've stayed loyal for almost a year, and let me just say jerking off isn't the same. There's something wrong with you, dude."

Sam's heart twists in his chest at the same time anger burns hot in his head. It hurt for him to hear people say that he was broken, that he had something wrong with him. Why was it so bad not to want sex? At the same time, he's angry now. Why the hell should he have to sacrifice something like this just to keep the relationship afloat?

"There's nothing wrong with me, Gabe," Sam says shakily, not fully believing himself.

"Then prove it. Have sex with me." Gabe says. It's not a request.

"I don't want to." Sam says quietly, stepping back slightly. Things were about to get real bad real soon.

"Prove that you love me, Sam." Gabe says again, slightly louder.

Sam begins to panic, but tries not to let it show. He always knew that there was a dark side broiling under Gabe's surface, but he's never seen it till now.

"No." Sam says, even more quietly.

"Prove. It." Gabe growls, stepping closer and gripping his wrists. Sam was at least six inches taller than him, but for some reason Gabe felt more powerful.

"I don't have to prove it! I love you, goddamn!" Sam shouts, breaking free of his boyfriend's grip and glaring at him.

Gabriel steps back, scoffing as he looked Sam up and down. "Sure you do."

He turns to walk away, and Sam catches his sleeve, pleading with his eyes.

"No, Gabe, I'm sorry. I do love you. I swear on my life I do."

The shorter man gives Sam one last look before shaking him off and leaving the room.

Guilt floods Sam. He has to show Gabe he loves him. As much as the bastard annoyed him, he did love him. He loved him. He just needs to prove it. 


	18. Chapter 19 - Reconcile

**A/N: I have a few more trigger warnings here. There will be some non-con, nothing graphic but still potentially triggering, so if you're not into that you can skip this chapter, I'll include a TL;DR at the bottom.**

 **-Hannah  
**

 _Samuel_

Sam stands outside Gabriel's bedroom, his breathing shallow and his hands shaking slightly. He presses his hands together to still the vibrations, trying to bring his heart rate down to a normal bpm. Loud rock music plays from within the room.

He inhales once. Exhales. Inhales. Exhales. He's got this. He can do this. People did this all the time, right? He was no different. He could do it too.

He brings his hand to the doorknob, ignoring his trembling hand, and pushes the door open.

Gabe is lying on his bed, reading a book whose title Sam couldn't quite read. He doesn't look up. It had been three days since their confrontation in the dorm, and he hasn't answered any of Sam's frantic texts.

Sam doesn't say a word, instead he kneels on the bed, straddling his boyfriend's midsection and putting his hands on either side of Gabe, forcing him to look at him. A small smile plays on Gabe's face, as if he knew he'd won.

"Hey Sam. Finally changed your-" Sam cuts him off with a deep kiss. He wanted this. Right?

Gabe kisses him back, deeper and more violent than any kiss has a right to be. Sam pauses to shakily take off his shirt, revealing a boyish frame with little muscle. Gabe looks up at him, panting. Sam can feel something hard pressing into his leg, and he feels like he's going to vomit. He pushes it down. He has to show Gabe he loves him.

Gabe rips off his shirt and starts working on Sam's pants, undoing them and slipping his hand into his boxers, making Sam jerk back and whimper a bit.

"Come on, Sammy, you started this. Finish it." Gabe growls. Sam flinches at the nickname his brother gave him coming from his boyfriend's mouth like that.

Sam closes his eyes as Gabe pulls off Sam's boxers, not wanting to see the look of lust on his boyfriend's face.

"God, Sam, I knew you were beautiful, but not like this. Damn."

Sam keeps his eyes screwed shut as Gabe removes his clothes and flips Sam onto his stomach roughly.

It hurt.

Oh God did it hurt.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain. Tears were streaming from Sam's eyes as he rocked with Gabe's thrusts. He hates himself for the physical reaction it causes, but he hopes it's enough to make Gabe sure that he loves him.

When he comes, it feels wonderful, but he was crying too hard to relish it.

Gabe crawls off him, flopping onto the bed, panting. Sam brings his knees up to his chest and lies in the fetal position for a while, tears streaming down his face. He felt so dirty, so used. His back was sticky and his groin muscles ached, and he felt on the verge of throwing up.

"That was great, Sammy." Gabe says, still breathing heavily. God, he wished he would stop calling him that!

Sam slowly sits up, his muscles aching and his head spinning. He puts his pants back on and slips his shirt over his head. He felt so vulnerable naked, it felt nice to be covered again.

"I'm going to take a shower." Sam says quietly, slowly standing up and walking out the door. Gabe didn't even notice.

 **TL;DR - Sam initiates sex with Gabe to "prove" he loved him, and it did not go well at all.  
**

 _Dean_

 _Day 253_

 _Reconcile  
_

Dean looks at the new page in his journal. He knew the most obvious candidate for this was his dad, but he knew he could probably never fix things with John.

"Hey beautiful," Cas says, sticking his head into the room. "What are you doing?"

Dean sighs and looks at Cas. "Just this stupid journal thing. Today's entry is to reconcile, but that seems kind of impossible since the only one who I really need to reconcile with is Dad."

Cas nodded. They had gone ahead and written all the entries, all the way up to day 300, and the entries in Dean's journal were the same as Cas's journal. It was easier and less confusing that way.

"Yeah. I originally wanted to reconcile with Luci, since he's a huge problem, but after what he did...I don't really care if we're ever on good terms."

"You never did tell me what Luci did to estrange himself," Dean comments.

"Oh, Dean, it's just...bad stuff. I promised Gabe I wouldn't tell anyone who doesn't absolutely need to know." Cas says apologetically. "It's not really my story to tell."

Dean nods, "Yeah okay, that's fine, don't worry about it. We got quite a few stories like that in the Winchester family."

Cas reaches over and takes Dean's hand. "I think you should do it."

Dean blinks in surprise. "What? After what he said to you, what he said to me, you want me to make peace with that bastard?!"

Cas holds his hands up in surrender. "Take it easy, Dean. A lot worse has happened to me, and you as well. Besides, he was clearly intoxicated and probably didn't know what he was saying."

The taller man scoffed, "Cas, drunkenness is one of Dad's core personality traits. He's said horrible things, done horrible things, drunk and sober."

"So?"

Cas surprises Dean again. He would have thought that being called a faggot and being threatened and beaten would weigh in on his decision a little more.

"What do you mean, 'so'?"

Cas inhales, looking into Dean's eyes. "I mean, so what if he's a horrible person? So what if he was abusive and caustic your entire childhood? So what if he's Satan incarnated? That's not your problem. You don't have to live with that. He does. He has to live with the fact that he was a shitty person and drove away both of his sons, probably forever. You can't hold a grudge like this, Dean. I get it, he was an abusive son of a bitch and I don't want him anywhere near you. But as long as you hate him, he has control. He's always had control over you, but now he doesn't. So stop letting him control you. Tell him you're done seething about his jackassery. Tell him you're finally free."

Dean is quiet for a moment, digesting this idea.

"I think that's pretty solid logic." He says at last. "I'll go down there tomorrow—no, tonight! You're right, Cas, I don't want to be controlled another minute."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Cas asks softly.

Dean nods, "Yeah. If you want to forgive him too, for what he called you and how he...hit you. I know you're not really up for a heart to heart with Luci."

Cas snorts, "Yeah, I'm not sure if what he did was ever forgivable. I'll let God take that one."

***

 _Ding-dong_

Dean presses the old and cracked doorbell to his house-no, John's house. He would never have to live here again. His hands twitch in anticipation; he had no idea what could happen now.

The door opens and John is in the doorway. To Dean's surprise, his eyes are alert and his face is clean shaven. He smells like men's deodorant and clean clothes. The clothes were clean, actually. Fresh white T-shirt and pajama pants, casual but appropriate for a Sunday morning.

"Dean? What are you doing here?" John asks, his voice clear and without a slur. He looks over Dean's shoulder at Cas, who waves awkwardly. A grimace passses over his face like a shadow, but it's gone soon after it appears.

Dean is too shocked by his dad's normal appearance to answer quickly. "I, um, Dad, uh..." he stammers.

"Come on, son, get it out." John says, annoyed.

"I just...I came to tell you something." Dean says, finding his voice.

John leans against the doorframe, not inviting them in. "Alright. Shoot."

Dean had imagined a drunken mess coming to meet him, and his speech would probably make more sense in that context. Forgiving a deadbeat dad is easier when he looks the part.

He inhales, reciting what he had practiced in the car with Cas.

"Dad, I want you to know I forgive you." Dean says. John opens his mouth to reply, but Dean pushes on, willing his voice not to shake.

"I want you to know that even though you were abusive and demeaning and generally a shitty parent, I don't care anymore. I'm done holding that grudge, won't let that, or you, control me anymore.

"I've found a life that I enjoy. I've found someone who I love and loves me in turn. I'm happy now, and I don't want to live the rest of my gorgeous life with you hanging over me like a shadow. I forgive you, and although I want nothing more to do with you, I want you to know my conscience is clear and I have no regrets"

John looks taken aback, and Dean's heart is calm.

"I do too, Mr. Winchester." Cas pipes up. "I never had to live with you, and I'm glad about that, but I forgive you for hurting my boyfriend and insulting me."

His dad glances at Cas, a muscle twitching in his cheek, but looks back at Dean.

"I...Dean.." John tries to get a sentence out.

"It's okay Dad," Dean says. "You don't have to do the same. I have to go home. Call me if you'd like, but only if you do it out of love. Not the fucked-up type of love you gave me and Sam by beating us. The kind of love you felt before Mom died."

Dean turns to leave, taking Cas by the hand and holding him tight. He had never met anyone whose grip felt so right in the world.

Halfway to the car, John shouts out,

"Dean!"

Dean looks over his shoulder, surprised.

"I want you to know...never mind. You already know."

Dean smiled back. His dad had never said he loved him and his brother, but this was the closest he's come to saying it.

Cas pulls Dean's arm, directing him back to the Impala. The two got in and drove home.

 _Day 253_

 _Reconcile_

Check. 


End file.
